Never Gone
by mtfrosty
Summary: Anakin wins the battle on Mustafar, but chooses to leave Obi-wan alive. Twenty years later, a very different story unfolds than the one everyone remembers. Even those believed lost forever are truly never gone...
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Technically this all belongs to good ol' George. I'm just messing around with his stuff.

**Summary: **Anakin won the battle on Mustafar, but left Obi-wan alive. Takes place twenty years later. Luke is the leader of the Rebels and Asajj Ventress is very much alive and seeking redemption and forgiveness from the one man she wronged the most.

**Author's Note:** This is a loose follow-up to "Only a Fool", but it can be read without reading that story. If you want the full details of what took place on Mustafar, though, I would suggest reading it. Again, thanks to all of you guys that have been reading and reviewing my writing! Hope you enjoy! :)

**Key Characters: **Obi-wan Kenobi, Asajj Ventress, Anakin Skywalker (Vader), Luke Skywalker, and others... there are a few that may not be accurate towards the books and such in relation to their ages (I wanted Kyle Katarn to be older than Luke, but wasn't sure if he really was), but most of the main characters I tried to keep accurate.

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_I was going to kill him, give him what he deserved. He was the cause of all my suffering, him and the Order he represented. I had already taken care of the latter. He was the last of my problems. He had fought well, better than anyone else would have. He could have killed me had he taken the opportunity._

_But he was weak._

_Now we stood across from each other in a sea of fire. Burnt dirt, burnt rock, fiery rivers, scalding steam. Heck, even the air itself was dry and tasted like ash. I breathed in and out calmly, savoring the raw power of the landscape around me._

_We exchanged a few words, nothing I remember, and then I lunged. I remember aiming for his upper chest. I was going to slice him in half._

_A single tear stopped me. This man never cries, and the sight of a tear falling down his face got to me for some reason. That was when the landscape around me faded, and it was only me and him. A Jedi and a Sith. Light and dark. Compassion versus anger._

_Compassion won._

_I changed my angle of attack. He fell, screaming in agony. I watched him for a brief moment and then turned and walked away._

_I forgive you, brother._

_Those were the last words he yelled after me, even in his pain._

_I didn't look back._

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Don't feel like you have to review the prologue, but reviews on the chapters would be great! Thanks for reading!

_"At the end of the day, love and compassion will win..." ~ Terry Waite_


	2. Remnants

_First Chapter! Enjoy! _

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The planet could very well be described as a giant dust ball. That's what it looked like from space, and that's what it looked like if one surveyed it from the surface. There was always wind, whether it be a gentle breeze or a howling gale and the air contained as much grit as it did oxygen. Vegetation consisted of a dead bush here and there and an occasional cactus or two. All in all, Tatooine was not much of a vacation spot. The natives were the only life-forms that appreciated the dry, arid landscape.

That was why Asajj Ventress never expected to end up on the force-forsaken bit of land. But this was where the Force had led her, and in all honesty, she figured it was the safest planet in the galaxy right now. If she remembered correctly, Darth Vader didn't care much for his home planet. She finally understood why.

It had been a good twenty-five years since Anakin Skywalker had almost killed her. She was forty-five years old and presumed dead by everyone in the galaxy. Her survival had been nothing short of a miracle. Having fallen hundreds of feet through the air and landing on a swampy pile of mush, she shouldn't be alive. It felt like she had fallen onto a slab of concrete, like she had literally snapped herself in two.

Yet here she was, dressed in normal clothes standing in the middle of one of the dust ball's busiest market places. She had no idea why she was here, just a feeling that she was supposed to be. A feeling so right that she couldn't ignore it.

The problem was that she didn't sense anything. The Force was as empty and cold as it had ever been. It made her shiver despite the dry heat surrounding her. A long time ago, she had been part of that coldness, part of the deep, dark void. Blind to the resonating light of the Jedi, blind to what she could have been.

This was her second chance.

Whatever _this_ was. She spotted a cantina in between a couple of shops and headed towards it. Perhaps a drink or two would relax her troubled mind. She went inside and immediately tried to pinch her nose shut.

The odor of alcoholic beverages mixed with sweat was overpowering and it took her a while to get accustomed to it. Ugh. Local bars. She should've expected this, she supposed. Ignoring the inviting looks and gestures from some of the men, she shoved her way to the counter. "What can I get for ya?" the man asked once she had his attention.

"Something strong," she muttered. "I don't care what's in it." Probably not the smartest thing to say, but she could care less at the moment. The man smirked and returned a moment later with a small glass of bluish liquid. "Enjoy."

Asajj nodded her thanks and swirled the drink slowly before taking a small whiff of it. She almost choked on the smell alone. Oh well, here goes. She took a large gulp, suppressing the tears caused by the burning sensation at the back of her throat. The pain lasted for a second before she was able to breathe again. Before she knew it, the glass was empty and her mind was much clearer.

Or that's what she thought before she saw the man hunched over a glass of something a few seats to her right. He seemed somewhat familiar, though he had no Force signature, at least not one that she could sense. The light-colored tunic he wore was loose and looked fairly worn. She suspected his age to be similar to hers, though the slight gray in his hair said otherwise. Not overly tall and without the bulging muscles most men possessed these days, he didn't present a formidable aura.

Not caring too much, Asajj continued to stare at him, trying to decide who he was. He seemed to feel her staring and suddenly turned to glance right at her. She slowly set her glass on the counter and blinked, not believing. She could never forget those eyes. Blue-gray, color-changing eyes so penetrating they could see straight into a person's soul with one glance alone.

This man was rumored dead. Twenty years ago from what she had heard, but unless her eyes deceived her, he was very much alive. A deceivingly quiet man more dangerous than anyone in the near vicinity, he was a mere shadow of a once famous Order.

Asajj continued to hold his gaze until he turned away. He downed the last of his drink, set a few coins on the counter, and stood up. Before he walked away, he caught her eye again and smiled slightly. For a brief moment, a long-dormant presence shone fiercely in the Force before blinking out once more. It was enough.

Her eyes spoke the truth, and it shocked her and relieved her at the same time. He was the reason the Force had brought her here.

She had found Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi.

()()()()()()()()()()()()

She stayed in the cantina for another hour. It took her that long just to decide if she should talk to him or ignore him. In the end, she chose to talk to him, but then realized that he was probably long gone by now. She slapped a couple of coins down on the counter, her frustration at her stupidity clear in the loud smack her hand made.

Like she would be able to talk to him now. He was as good as gone.

The slightly cool breeze sent a chill down her back when she stepped outside. Blasted desert. How could a person dress appropriately if the temperature fluctuated so much? Asajj stood where she was, surveying the market and trying to ignore the biting cold. As far as she could tell, Kenobi was nowhere within sight. To make matters worse, the sun was quickly descending in the distance. She couldn't help but let out a frustrated huff.

"I never thought you were dead."

The voice made her jump it was so close. She turned towards it and mentally smacked herself. He was sitting on a wooden bench a few feet to the left of the door, quietly observing her. His posture wasn't the least bit threatening and she saw no lightsaber on his belt, but that didn't stop her from being cautious. They had a short, but rather violent history between them, each having tried to kill the other on more than one occasion. Now, though, she had to wonder if either of them had actually _intended_ to kill the other.

"I could say the same thing," she finally decided to say. "Rumors are hardly trustworthy."

He gave her a small smile before turning away. "It's getting dark," he observed. Then his gaze, surprisingly gentle, settled on her again. "Do you need a place to sleep?"

Had she just heard him right? This _was_ the same man she had thoroughly tortured and almost killed… right? The former Sith blinked, hesitating. Maybe it was a trick. He was probably planning to kill her once he got her alone and out of the public's watchful eye. Back in the day, he had been known for his craftiness as much as anything else.

He had also been known as a gentleman. That plan seemed a little low for him. Still…

"It's a yes or no question. Don't hurt yourself." His amused comment brought her out of her suspicious musings and she narrowed her eyes at him, though the look had no effect on him whatsoever.

"No, but thanks anyway. I was just passing through," she snapped, a little harsher than she intended. But she needed him to know that she had absolutely no intention of going anywhere with him alone.

The amused glint never left his eyes as he stood up. He was still the same short, lithe Jedi she remembered. "I do believe you are lying, Asajj," he frankly stated as he crossed his arms.

"Am not," was the only thing she could come up with. That would go far against a man who was famous for his politician-like wit.

He sighed. "Honestly, my dear. If we intended to kill each other, we would have tried to do so already. You can trust me."

My dear. Before, it had been said as a taunt during their many duels. Now… now she didn't know what it was. She let out a short laugh. "Just like that? Trust you. I would sooner trust a hutt."

"No you wouldn't." The remark was instantaneous and she knew it was true. She _did_ trust him. More than he knew. He uncrossed his arms and gestured. "My speeder is that way. You don't have to stay longer than one night. And you have my word that I will not harm you in any way, shape, or form." He started walking without another glance.

She hated him for knowing she would follow. "You're very annoying. Has anyone ever told you that?" she retorted as she followed after him.

He didn't turn around, but the sudden shift in emotion was almost palpable. "Anakin told me often enough," was the quiet reply.

They reached the speeder, an old hunk of junk that looked on the verge of collapse. The silence was sobering and Asajj had no reply. She knew Vader's true identity, but she didn't know what had happened to the most famous Jedi partnership to ever exist. Obi-wan looked suddenly unwilling to talk.

They drove on in silence.

They didn't speak even as he showed her where to sleep. The day ended with not so much a as a whisper. But as she lay on the small, makeshift cot, she did hear something coming from the room next door. It was muffled, but to her it was very clear.

Obi-wan Kenobi was crying.

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_Well, should I continue? I have more chapters written, so let me know if I should post them! Please Review! :)_

_"Can I see another's woe, and not be in sorrow too? Can I see another's grief, and not seek for kind relief?" ~ William Blake_


	3. Bits and Pieces

_Well, I s'pose I'll keep it going... :) Thanks to everyone who reviewed!_

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Asajj slept very little that night. The crying eventually stopped, but only because Kenobi had run out of tears. At least that's what she figured.

The sun woke her in the morning, the brilliant rays burning her through the small window. She stretched her arms and stood up. Trying not to be loud, she pushed open the door and walked down the small hall into the space that was crafted as a living room. The smell of tea lingered in the air, telling her that he was already wide awake. She found him outside the small hovel sitting on a large, dusty boulder. A cup of tea was clutched in his right hand. The wind was artfully flowing through his longish hair. It wasn't quite down to his shoulders, so she couldn't quite call it shaggy, but she decided it would pass for scruffy. The bright sun made it look more red than gray. "You get up too early," she told him.

He turned his head to glance at her. "Are you leaving?"

She gave him a look that bordered on patronizing. "Come on, Kenobi. You called my bluff yesterday. The Force brought me here for a reason and I'm certain that reason is you."

He almost smiled. Almost. "The Force brought you? Well, I have to admit, it's nice knowing you're not here to kill me this time."

She frowned. "Funny."

His eyes held no humor. "Hardly. Why are you here, Asajj?"

"I already told you," she replied.

"Not completely."

She sighed. "Look. I guess it's just a feeling I have, and I do trust you, believe it or not. Plus, this is one of the few places Vader isn't looking for force-sensitives, so I'm safe here."

He nodded and took another sip of his tea. "You didn't have to hide, you know. I would have helped you."

After she supposedly died all those years ago. That's what he was referring to. She didn't have to ask. She swallowed, not ready for this conversation. "No you wouldn't have. Not after what I did to you." It came out a whisper, but it sounded so loud.

Obi-wan closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Yes I would've. There's a reason I never killed you."

Asajj felt a sudden surge of anger. It was the same feeling she had always felt around him. It was born from an inability to understand how someone could so selflessly love those around him. "Darn it, Kenobi! I tortured you! I cut you, burned you, had you flogged, starved you… I even put that mask on you! By all accounts, you should be dead, and at my hand! Now stop lying to me and tell me the truth!" she cried, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Heavy silence followed her outburst. The only sound was the howl of the wind. Grit and sand was starting to coat her skin and clothes. She ignored it. Her flashing eyes were fixed on the former Jedi in front of her. "Tell me you wanted to kill me," she seethed.

His words were quiet in the howling gale and she strained to hear them. "I know what you did to me," he muttered. "I have the scars. I have the memories. I even have the nightmares. I try to forget it, but I can't. Telling you that I ever wanted to kill you, however, would be a lie."

"Why won't you admit it?"

"I cannot admit to feeling something that I didn't feel," was his smooth answer. "The truth of the matter is, I wasn't the one being tortured in that hole. You were." He opened his eyes and looked at her again. "Yes, I should've died, but for reasons we both know, you let me live."

There was no desire to kill in that gaze, just loving compassion that she still couldn't understand. She looked away, unable to hold his gaze. "Of course I let you live," she mumbled. "You were the only person who ever had any hope for me. I hated myself more every time I struck you." She refused to cry, but her voice had started to tremble towards the end.

"You're forgiven, Asajj. You were forgiven before I even escaped that place." His voice cut through the wind and sand, going straight to her heart. She had been wanting to hear those words for a long time now. Deep down she had known, though. He had always had that forgiving look in his eyes.

"Can we talk about something else?" she asked him, brushing away a small tear that had managed to escape.

"Sure." There was a pause. "There's not really much to talk about out here."

"Unless you're fascinated by wind or sand," she pointed out. Silence ensued yet again. Considering they used to be mortal enemies, she figured they were doing alright. "Do you cook?" she asked.

He snorted and let out a short laugh. "Do I cook? If I didn't, I would've joined the force years ago. I assure you I am the only one in my line of Jedi who has even the faintest idea of what that word means."

She had to laugh. It was a foreign sound to her. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed. It drew a warm smile from Obi-wan and she couldn't help but grin back at him. "That bad?"

His grin turned into a grimace. "Qui-gon mastered the art of charring every meal to ashes and Anakin managed to take it one step further. We went through three microwaves before he turned twelve."

Asajj winced. "Harsh."

He stood up and she was once again struck by how young he still looked. He could easily pass for forty, despite his old age. He caught her staring and smirked. "I hate to ruin your daydreaming, darling, but I haven't lost any years. I am still thirteen years older than you, and last time I checked, that's not really an appropriate age difference for couples."

He chuckled lightly at her scowl. "Just shut up and make me some breakfast," she retorted.

His smile widened into that charming grin she knew all too well. "Very well, milady. Would you prefer pancakes or scrambled eggs?"

She frowned deeper. Now he was truly teasing her. It never ceased to amaze her how this man could so easily turn anyone into a friend. Especially someone like her. She beckoned towards the small house with a swift jerk of her arm. "How about both for being so obnoxious?"

Obi-wan walked past her with a smirk. "You have yet to see how irritating I can really be. Just be thankful I'm in a merciful mood."

"Good," she snapped, following him inside. "Because I would hate to render you unconscious for merely being annoying."

She could practically see him roll his eyes even though he didn't turn around. "Forgive me for not feeling the least bit threatened. Are you making the eggs or the pancakes?"

"Depends," she said with a shrug. "Which would you like burned?"

He stopped sifting through cupboards long enough to glare at her, though the effect was lessened by the amused twinkle in his eyes. "Don't tell me you can't cook, because I know it's a lie."

She smiled sweetly. "I seem to have misplaced my cooking talents for the day. You're on your own, Kenobi."

He muttered something under his breath and then began rummaging through the cupboards again. "Fine. I concede. Go make yourself comfortable."

"You… _concede_? Did I hear you correctly?"

His current actions didn't stop, but his expected retort was predictably instantaneous. "I only concede the battles I know I can't win."

She frowned at the back of his head. "You hardly had me beat during those duels. Had they gone on a bit longer –"

"I would have been tempted to start removing limbs so you would quit being stubborn," he finished with a wry glance. "Really, Asajj. Go sit down and let me cook. If you really want to argue over it, then I can show you what I mean a little later."

How she ever thought she could best him in a battle of wits was beyond her. She only huffed in response and stalked into the living room, plopping onto a sofa that looked a million years old. It certainly felt a million years old. After twenty minutes of shifting around, trying to get comfortable, she gave up when Obi-wan emerged from the kitchen with two plates of piping hot pancakes and steaming eggs. She settled for perching on the worn edge of the cushions and smiled as he handed her a plate. Instead of thanking him, she opted for suggesting a fix-up. "You're furniture needs work."

He took a seat across from her in a creaky rocking chair that squeaked with every movement he made. "I'm open to suggestions, but that one stays the way it is."

After swallowing a bite of pancakes, she raised a brow. "You prefer lumpy and bumpy?"

A smile emerged from within him that was clearly directed at some distant memory rather than her remark. "When Anakin was still young, he used to jump all over that thing, pretending that he could fly."

She openly gaped at him now. "You brought this from the Temple?"

Obi-wan nodded. "It took a great deal of smuggling to get it here. Proper channels and all that. Quite the mess really."

"But why risk yourself like that?" she asked him.

He set his empty plate down on the floor and crossed his arms. She looked at her own plate and frowned. There was still half of it left. Why did he eat so fast? "It wasn't very risky at all, actually," he replied, drawing her attention back to the conversation. "Just tedious. I'm sure you know how simple-minded clone troopers are."

"But the transportation… I'm just a little puzzled as to how you managed that with all of the security."

The squeaking stopped as he rose from the chair, plate in hand. "I'm afraid there are certain promises made between my contacts and I that I am not about to break," he casually answered. He passed by her into the kitchen and she rose to follow him. Before she scraped off her plate, he took it and set it on the counter. "You're not done."

"I'm full." She couldn't quite keep the bite out of her tone.

All he did was glance at her. "House rules, my dear. All food on the plate gets eaten."

She glowered at him. "I didn't come here to be treated like your padawan, Kenobi. I'm forty-five years old and am perfectly capable of eating what I want to eat," she bit out through gritted teeth. Anger still came easily to her.

The older man turned to face her and leaned against the fridge. "That is not what I was implying," he said calmly, his eyes settling on her face.

Asajj struggled to control her building rage. It annoyed her, knowing that she could get so worked up over such a minute issue. That's not who she wanted to be anymore. "But that's what I heard."

"Then you weren't listening." He sighed and made a dismissive wave with his hand. "Toss it if you want, but your body needs more than just muscle, Asajj. A little fat won't hurt you."

"Whatever." Knowing she would probably feel the effects later, she scarfed down most of what was left and then set the plate in the sink. Obi-wan had retreated outside without another word. Before going out to see what he was up to, she took a moment to study the small living space.

She couldn't resist rolling her eyes after glancing into Kenobi's bedroom. Everything about the place reflected his personality. It was all clean and tidy and overly simple. He only kept what he needed. Plus, the entire place had that lingering smell of the sweet tea he had been drinking that morning.

A small box resting on the bedside table caught her eye. After making sure he was still outside, Asajj silently walked across the room and picked it up. It didn't weigh much, but she could tell something was inside of it. She went to lift the top off, but then frowned when she saw the small lock holding it shut. Surrendering to her curiosity, she began a fervent search for the key.

"Don't waste your time. I threw the key out a long time ago. I'm the only one who can open it now." Asajj dropped the pillow she was holding and looked towards the door. He was staring at her through eyes that looked more amused than angry. He stopped wiping his hands on the rag he was holding and broke the gaze to walk past her to a box that was sitting in a corner. He rummaged through the contents and pulled out a strange-looking tool. "Forgot this."

Asajj couldn't help but stare at him. He had removed his outer tunic and was now dressed only in a sleeveless shirt and loose-fitting trousers. Once she got past the lean, but defined muscles of his arms, her eyes fell to his right forearm. A brown, plastic covering surrounded his arm, ending right before the elbow. He was wearing a brown glove over his hand to match. She wondered why she hadn't noticed before. Even so, she immediately understood.

Someone had cut the bottom half of his arm off.

"When did that happen?" she asked quietly, pointing at the brown casing that was covering what she assumed was a durasteel prosthetic.

His jaw clenched with carefully controlled emotion. Then he simply walked out of the room.

Asajj rushed after him and spun him around with a quick jerk on his shoulder. The cool look in his eyes almost stopped her, but not quite. "There's stuff you're not telling me, Kenobi," she told him in an even voice. "And if I'm staying here, in your house, with someone who used to be my worst enemy, I might add, then secrets aren't going to be much of an option." She barely held his unwavering gaze.

He gave her a curt nod. "Understood. Some things, however, are better left unsaid." He held up his arm. "This being one of them."

The cold look in his eyes disappeared to be replaced by a sadness she couldn't even begin to describe, and she suddenly felt like giving him a hug. She didn't, though. It wouldn't quite be appropriate just yet. Instead she leaned back against the wall across from him. "I heard you crying last night," she said in the softest voice she could muster, though it still sounded a little snappy. After being a Sith for more than half her life, it was hard to start being a little gentler in certain situations. "You need to talk about it. It'll help."

He looked away for a moment, breathing in and out a few times. His right hand subconsiously reached over to scratch at the point where the plastic met his tanned skin. When his eyes finally met hers again, they were dull. No sadness, no joy, not even anything in between. There was nothing in them. Just a blank, shady window attempting to hide a very troubled soul. "I'm sorry, Asajj, but I can't." His voice matched his eyes. Blank. No emotion.

She knew there was no getting to him now. The same traits that made him famous for his diplomatic prowess were the same traits that were currently eating him alive. Until she could figure out how to break down that wall of his, he would continue to suffer. Asajj only bit her lip and nodded. She didn't say anything when he turned and walked away from her. It wasn't that she didn't want to say anything. There was plenty to say. He just wouldn't hear her.

Obi-wan had completely shut himself out from the world.

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_Please Review! That would be awesome! :)_

_"The greater your capacity to love, the greater your capacity to feel the pain." ~ Jennifer Aniston_


	4. Resistance

_Alright, chapter 3! Thanks to those who are reviewing! :)_

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Forcing secrets out of Kenobi, Asajj decided, was about as easy as getting Hoth to melt. For three days she asked him about his arm and he expertly avoided answering every time. Sometimes he was rather blunt about telling her to leave it alone, but most often he politely refused to answer. Then she tried to get him to open the box, but that didn't get far either. Considering he no longer wore his lightsaber, though, she could easily wager a guess as to the contents of the box.

She still asked every so often, but for the most part both secrets were a lost cause. It had been two months now, and they were getting along quite well. Kenobi still hadn't attempted to kill her, and she was really starting to believe that their friendship was real.

He told her many stories of his younger years, about his friends and Qui-gon. There were plenty of stories about him and Anakin, and though he told most of them with a chuckle or a smile, he couldn't hide the sadness that was evident in his dull, gray eyes. He never told her how it had ended between them, but a person didn't have to be force-sensitive to know that it had hurt him deeply.

Many days were spent working around his place or going into town for supplies. She helped him fix up his speeder to the point where she knew it wasn't going to fall apart when he stepped into it. He fixed the rocking chair. It took a good five days to get rid of the irritating squeak. She added a few homey touches to her guest room and even planted flowers outside.

The flowers would soon be dead.

The man had had the nerve to stand there and laugh at her as she tried to put them in the ground. She had never been very girly and it showed. He had kindly helped her out after she shut him up with a withering glare. She hadn't watered them since, determined to be rid of the blasted things. Unfortunately, Kenobi had taken it upon himself to keep them very much alive.

Today was a lazy day, at least for her. She was sprawled on the lumpy sofa studying an old datapad he had dug up for her. It contained a lot of unclassified records of the Jedi Orders' history from way back before either of them had been born. It was rather interesting stuff.

She was still lying there when Obi-wan came inside covered in sweat and sand, hair plastered to his head. It hadn't taken her long to discover how he had kept himself in such good shape over so many years. The Jedi katas were rather intense and exhausting. Those, doubled with the man's hard-headed discipline, kept his body lean and muscled.

He passed through the small living room with barely a glance.

Destination: fresher.

She stopped him.

"Obi-wan."

He looked at her, clearly wanting to clean up before having a conversation with her. "What?"

"Why don't you have a force-signature anymore?" That was why she hadn't sensed him on the bench and that was why it was a little more difficult to read his emotions.

"I can't. Vader would find me." He bit out the words, looking away as he said them. Not his most subtle lie.

She set the datapad down and raised a brow. "That would be a reasonable answer."

His eyes found her face again. They were gray. Sad. The only color they had been since she had run into him at the cantina. "Yes, it would be," he agreed in a quiet voice. Then he continued down the short hall and a minute later she heard the door to the fresher close. A sigh of frustration escaped her. He had called Anakin the most stubborn Jedi he had ever met during one of his stories, but Asajj swore that the younger Jedi's stubbornness was born from having an excellent example to learn from.

In an attempt to get her latest 'getting-the-blasted-fool-to-talk' failure out of her mind, she picked up a different datapad and checked out the latest news from around the galaxy. The first story instantly had her attention. The new rebel force had made a larger dent this time. They had been a thorn in the Empire's side for a few weeks now, but a very small thorn. Until recently. They had finally struck gold.

An entire Imperial starfleet wiped out. Granted the fleet had been of smaller size, numbering around two hundred ships, but it was still impressive considering the rebles probably didn't even have fifty ships. And to make the move even bolder than it already was, it had been executed only one system away from Vader's home base. The Emperor would be furious, to put it mildly. She smiled at that thought. Sidius had never really been on her list of friends.

She scanned other headlines, but returned to that one and read the full report. The rebels had escaped with minor casualties, it seemed, having had the element of surprise on their side. And they had disappeared… again. She and Obi-wan had discussed the strategy a couple of days ago. He described it as rather tactful, considering their inferior strength. The rebels weren't capable of waging a full out war, so they had resorted to occasional attacks, spaced in a seemingly random pattern.

Her gaze turned thoughtful. The rebels were obviously capable of war now. To take down an entire fleet basically right under the Emperor's nose was impressive. Even more impressive was not getting killed or captured in the process. Perhaps they needed help. Maybe a couple of very experienced, battle-seasoned warriors would give them a little more confidence…

An insane thought, but it brought a smile to her lips.

Obi-wan picked that exact moment to emerge from the fresher. One look at her crazed grin and he scowled. "Whatever it is, you're on your own. That look cannot be good."

She laughed and held the datapad out to him. "They're getting stronger."

A quick scan of the report and he was shaking his head. "They're fools if they believe they have the upper hand. Vader will eat them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Cooked to a crisp."

He had a dry sense of humor that could be somewhat morbid at times. She frowned at his comment. "You don't know their strength," she argued.

He drilled her with his stare. "True. But I know Vader."

There was that. But she only smiled. "An excellent point, Master Kenobi. You know him _very_ well."

Obi-wan knew where this was going immediately and clearly didn't like it. He tossed the datapad back to her and walked into the kitchen. "Absolutely not," he snapped.

Asajj followed him in, determined to talk him into it. She knew this was a rare opportunity for him to finally reach the man he had once called his brother. She put two hands on the counter and leaned over it. "Why not? They need help."

"Two people won't make a difference," he pointed out, digging through the fridge for something that wasn't there. He was deliberately avoiding her gaze.

"We're not just two people, Kenobi, and you know it. You're a former Jedi Master who knows Vader's mind like the back of your own hand and I'm a former… well… I'm powerful in my own right." She refused to bring up her own past right now. That was a different conversation for a different time.

He finally straightened and closed the fridge with more force than was necessary. When he turned to face her, she visibly flinched at the look in his eyes. It was bordering on both tears and rage at the same time. "Asajj, I would love to see Anakin again and have the chance to turn him back to the man I knew before. There is nothing I want more."

"Then why not? They're getting desperate! Before long they'll make a mistake and then it will all be over!"

"I can't face his son."

The rebel leader. Luke. No last name. The name that had been floating around since the attacks had begun. "Luke?"

He nodded. "He would almost be twenty-one right now. Old enough to know the truth. It's a truth I don't have the courage to give him."

A new wave of frustration rolled through her. "Force, Kenobi! Anakin's fall was not your fault!"

His eyes flashed and his voice turned crisp, his accent more pronounced. "I raised him. I taught him how to be a Jedi. I spent almost fourteen years trying to be the father he never had, and in the end I watched his lightsaber come towards me without any hesitation. You cannot begin to understand how hard it is to fight your own child with such a terrible obligation to fulfill." He paused, drawing in a deep breath. "I was supposed to kill him. For some reason, Master Yoda, in all his wisdom, though that I would be able to fulfill my duty as a Jedi by murdering the very man I raised. He was wrong. I had plenty of opportunities, but in the end I just stood there, hoping with everything in me that he would turn back. He almost killed me. Instead he opted to just leave me with a reminder of my ultimate failure. My brother, my _son_… he… he did this." He held his prosthetic arm up for her to see.

Asajj drew in a quick breath, as much to hold in the tears as to contain her shock. She had been expecting him to say it was a Sith, or some clumsy accident that had resulted in the loss of his arm. Never would she have suspected that Anakin had chopped it off intentionally. She suspected that their friendship had ended pretty badly, but not like _that_. Her version had Anakin disappearing with Obi-wan finding out the truth later. She could never picture the two of them fighting each other with the intent to kill. Two months of berating him about his arm and this was what she got. She hadn't expected the truth to hurt as much as it did. Obi-wan's pain was overwhelming, even if she couldn't sense it through the Force.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I failed him, Asajj, but I know there's still a little bit of Anakin left. Anakin I can face. His son is an entirely different matter."

Despite knowing the truth and witnessing the true level of suffering he was going through, she still knew that the rebels needed help. She walked around the counter and stood right in front of him, unwilling to let him take the easy way out. "Would you rather he die at the hands of his own father?"

He didn't answer, instead looking away from her persistent gaze. She couldn't take it anymore. He was such a strong man, and the fact that he was just going to stand there and do nothing, surrender to his supposed failures, made her snap. She reached up, took his jaw in a firm grip and forced him to look at her. "It is not your fault. Now get that through your head and listen to me! Luke may be your only chance at reaching Anakin again and I'm not going to let you waste it! He needs to know and you have to tell him!"

His jaw clenched and his eyes flashed dangerously with carefully controlled anger. He reached up and grasped her wrist firmly. "Let go of me."

She held on for a little longer to get her point across and then let go. He released her wrist and pushed by her into the living room. The rocking chair made no noise as he practically fell into it, hunching over with one elbow on his knee, the other hand holding his head up. The only sound was their steady breathing as she leaned against the wall, impatiently waiting for his answer.

His quiet chuckle cut through the air at the same time that she felt the Force grow a bit lighter. Her body relaxed and she sighed when his soft presence filled an empty hole in the Force. He raised his head to look at her, a small smile lighting up his face. His eyes were blue. His smile was contagious and she grinned back. "Well?"

It was a two-word answer that set her heart at ease and removed any doubts about their growing friendship. "Thank you."

She smirked at him. "Someone had to break through your stone wall and set you straight."

"I never suspected that person would be you."

She laughed. "Well, nothing's impossible for the Force."

He stood and walked over, stopping once he was a few inches away. A slight chill went down her spine as his expression turned serious. Then, giving her the greatest shock of her life, he leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek, his scruffy beard brushing gently along her smooth skin. He drew back and looked at her with those blasted eyes of his. "Thanks for reminding me," he softly replied.

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_Seriously, review. Pleeeeeease! I would like to know what you guys think, good or bad. :)_

_"If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth, only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair."_

_ ~ C.S. Lewis_


	5. Now You Know

_Moving right along... Enjoy! :)_

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In all the times they had dueled before, Kenobi had emerged victorious every time. His capture all those years ago had been nothing short of an accident and Asajj couldn't take the credit for it. This time, however, as he fell in the dirt for the fourth time, she couldn't hold in the laughter any longer. When he shot her a glare, she only laughed harder. "Are you quite finished?" he asked, obviously annoyed, as he brushed himself off.

"Well until you stop landing the dirt, I'm afraid the laugher's going to stay. What's wrong anyways?" she asked him. "And age is not an excuse."

The hot breeze coated his light-colored tunic with the same dust he had just brushed off, and he gave it another hopeless swat. His eyes closed for a brief moment, as if he was trying to get control of himself. Then he gestured with a hand and ignited his lightsaber once more. "Again," he said evenly.

Asajj narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "You're avoiding yet another of my questions, Kenobi. Out with it."

"Nothing is wrong." The words sounded forced.

With a loud sigh, she uncrossed her arms and lit her blade. "If you say so, but you can't keep yourself bottled up. It will kill you from the inside."

His only response was to lift his blade in a ready position. She attacked him once again, driving him back with her superior strength and more dominant form. Her double-bladed saber struck at him from every angle, pushing, striving to make contact with the target behind that azure bar of plasma.

Obi-wan gracefully parried every attack as calmly as he always did. Nimble footwork, quick reflexes, and the flexible twisting of his body were evidence of his disciplined workout. His skill hadn't left him. His age wasn't hindering him. Asajj was just beginning to wonder what his problem was when she swung too far to the right, leaving her body open for a split second.

Normally, he would've capitalized on that mistake and ended the duel. And he almost did, but as his blade came in towards her, she saw his eyes flicker, saw him blink a couple of times, and watched in disbelief as his arms halted their motion. Unable to stop a snort of irritation, she slammed her own weapon straight up under his own, sending it flying off at a weird angle.

He made no move to call it back to him. He just stared at the ground, a blank look on his face. She finally understood. "You're afraid, aren't you." it was a statement, not a question, because she knew she was right. "You're afraid you're going to hurt me."

When those sad blue eyes met her own gaze, she felt herself practically crumble. His voice was barely a whisper, edged with the raspy tone of unshed tears. "I cut him, Asajj. I cut into his arm, caught him in the hip and even punched him in the jaw. I _hit_ him. I split his lip and left a red mark on his cheek. Force, Asajj, I could've killed him!" He stood there, glaring in defiance, daring her to tell him different. A lone tear trailed down the left side of his face.

She felt her own eyes start to water, but she refused to cry. "But you didn't," she quietly replied. "Every cut you made, every punch you dealt him, was a justified blow. He deserved nothing less."

He shook his head. "I hurt him. He was like a son to me and I –"

"Did what a father would've done," she finished for him. "You got his attention in a way that words couldn't. He was beyond reasoning. By knocking some sense back into him, you reminded him that he is still loved. Had anyone else been in your position, Anakin would be dead right now. Beyond hope, beyond redemption, beyond anything else the light could offer him. You gave him a second chance, Obi-wan. He can still make things right."

Though he was obviously not convinced, he still seemed to think her words over. Then he sighed defeatedly. "I still know that if I had done some things differently, maybe talked to him more, maybe he wouldn't have fallen."

"True," she finally relented and watched his eyes widen a little in surprise. "But his fall was ultimately his decision and his fault. Different choices on your part might have made a difference, but we will never know. 'What if' scenarios never help a situation they can't undo what's already been done." Her voice was rising and she couldn't help it. "So why don't you focus on what needs to be done!" She lashed out with her blade, determined to knock her own version of sense into him.

She felt the calm pulse in the Force, heard the thwack of a lightsaber slapping into his palm, and was unprepared for his straight out block. Her blade rebounded off the steady blue beam and she stumbled a little. There was a flash of movement and then she was left without a weapon, only a tingling sensation in her arm. It had happened too fast for her to see how he had done it. She stared at him stunned.

There was no smile on his face, no change in his sad demeanor. He powered down his blade and tossed the silver hilt at her feet. "I'm not afraid of hurting you, but every time we spar, the only face staring back at me is his. I'm sorry." He gave her a sad, apologetic look, and then walked towards the hovel, leaving a small cloud of dust in his wake.

She reached down and picked up his lightsaber, smiling sadly as she did. This weapon had rid the galaxy of so many evils, but in the end it destroyed the man who wielded it as well. Had he not been the victim, Kenobi would've enjoyed the irony. She let out a heavy side as she followed after him. Too many days were filled with conversations like the one they just had, and she was finally feeling the effects. Too much self-criticism mixed with a strong sense of depression was starting to get to her, and she was starting to fear that she might actually explode on him one of these times. The man was too hard-headed for his own good.

She found him in his room packing what few necessities he had into a small brown sack. "Where are you going?"

"There's a visit I have to make before we head out to find Luke."

A hand on his shoulder stopped his movements. "I don't think so, Kenobi. Not until you're able to fight me, looking at my face and not at Anakin's. You're not ready."

The look in his eyes was accepting of what she had just said, but the knowing smile was not. "And I never will be, Asajj." He strode past her towards the door and paused. "I suppose you can come if you want."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll find out."

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His starfighter was old and cramped with two people, but they made it work. It still flew smoothly, so that was a plus. Then there was that odd little popping sound every so often and the fact that one of his engines had a permanent stutter due to a laser hit in the Clone Wars, but she wasn't paranoid… or at least that's what she kept telling herself.

Obi-wan didn't say anything at all. It was silent during the short trip. She wished the trip had been infinitely long.

The planet loomed in the distance, a place cursed by everyone in existence, both Sith and Jedi, Rebels and the Empire, even ordinary civilians. This was where the light had all but died, and the dark had finally emerged victorious. And as Asajj watched the planet get bigger through the cockpit glass, she had to wonder if this was where a part of Obi-wan had died as well. She wished she hadn't come. Nothing could prepare her for this experience. "You visit every year, don't you."

A barely visible nod of his head. "Yes. Today was when it happened."

"Why?" she wanted to know. Why visit a place so dark, with memories so terrible? Why visit the place your best friend practically died?

"To forgive." Two simple words with such powerful meaning. His compassion was beyond her understanding and she had a feeling it always would be. Out of everyone in the galaxy, she would bet almost anything that he was the only man willing to forgive a betrayal as deep and heart-wrenching as the one he had faced.

They landed in a shallow valley between two charred, black hills. The instant she stepped out of the cockpit, she was blasted with a gust of air made purely of sulfur and ash and barely enough oxygen to breathe. How the two brothers had managed to fight possibly the fiercest duel to ever occur, in this atmosphere, she had no idea. She coughed a little and felt Obi-wan stop a little behind her. She turned to look at him. The ash particles were already sticking in his beard and hair, adding more gray to his scruffy cut. His eyes were turning a little red from irritation and he blinked before glancing at her. No words were spoken. He started walking and she only followed.

They walked up one of the hills, down the other side, and then ambled towards a river of lava that was flowing not too far away. Obi-wan reached it, walked along the bank for a few yards and then sat down on an ash-smudged boulder. Asajj stood behind him, letting him take his time. She felt his presence pulse suddenly and then grow quiet again. She had a feeling it was for Anakin, whatever small part of that man that was left in Vader.

Obi-wan sat, head bowed, lava churning by in front of him, oblivious. His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed in pain as he relived his unwilling participation in a fight against his brother. Asajj felt a tendril of the Force poke at her mind. It was a gentle poke, asking permission to enter rather than forcing its way in. She swallowed, studying the back of his head. Obi-wan wanted her to know the truth, but she didn't know if she could handle it. At this point, after so many days of watching him beat himself up over something that was not his fault, she almost wasn't sure she wanted to know the cause of all his suffering. Then again, if she refused, what would that do to him? He needed someone to know.

She let it in, and the landscape around her immediately transformed. In appearance, it was the exact same, save for two differences. There were two Jedi in front of her, dueling with the ferocity of the Sith. Or at least one of them was. The other was simply doing his best to get his blade up in front of him so he wasn't sliced in half. The taller of the two, apparently the younger as well, was driving the other man back so fast that it was all the man could do just to keep his feet.

She would recognize the older man's style anywhere, and she felt herself sit down in the ashy dirt, holding back tears as she watched the scene unfold. It was Obi-wan, twenty years younger and just as smooth as she remembered him. He kept his feet perfectly, obviously using the force to search out possible obstacles he could trip over, and still had enough concentration to be able to effortlessly parry away every one of Anakin's strikes. It was the same passive, infuriatingly patient style he had fought her with so many times, only his obvious hurt was causing him to fight a little sloppier than usual. Sometimes his blade would barely get there in time and be pushed back towards his face to the point where he would have to twist away to avoid being burned.

Asajj watched Obi-wan continue to give ground, his eyes wet with tears even though his face was set in grim determination. Then, when Anakin swung his blade around towards his left side, Obi-wan pivoted a little and slammed a two-handed guard up under the younger man's weapon, blasting it upwards and leaving Anakin's stomach wide open. Asajj was mentally yelling at him, telling him to end it there and then, but he only leapt up and flipped in a graceful arc until he was behind his former padawan. Ataru.

That was a style that Asajj was not very familiar with. He had used it sparingly when fighting her, mainly only the acrobatic side of it. He would jump and flip all over. She remembered one duel when he jumped out of a window fifty feet above her by jumping from one pillar to the next. He made it look so easy as he made five nimble jumps and leapt out the window with barely a noise.

Now, as she watched the two friends fight, she still only saw him use the acrobatic side. She watched him leap over another attack a little bit later and slice into Anakin's arm while he was still in midair. Mostly he just stayed on the defensive while he tried to reason with Anakin and bring him back to the light. He attacked only a few times. Every time he attacked, though, Anakin felt it. He managed to break through the younger man's guard every time, landing a glancing blow or making precision cuts in his skin. And each time his blade made contact, she saw his face fall even more, his stoic exterior shrivel a little. Obi-wan didn't want to hurt Anakin, but he knew he had little choice.

Then the moment came when the older Jedi couldn't handle it anymore. She watched him cut his friend in the arm, the hip and in a few other places. He unleashed a vicious punch to Anakin's jaw when he came too close. Finally, when it was apparent that Anakin wasn't responding to his pleas, Obi-wan just lowered his blade and stood there. The two of them stood there, exchanging words that Asajj couldn't hear.

She saw defeat enter Obi-wan's eyes, saw him give up for possibly the first time in his life. Whatever Anakin had just said had cut very deep. Asajj watched the new Sith step forward and swing his blade in a blinding arc. If Obi-wan didn't move, he would be sliced in half. Anyone else would have either blocked the blade or jumped out of the way.

He didn't. He just stood there, lightsaber hanging limply in his right hand, color-changing eyes changing no more, forever stuck on gray. A tear left his eye. And that's what did it. She watched Anakin's arms falter for a split second and then the angle of his attack changed from right to left to straight up and down. Obi-wan didn't shy away as the blade sank into his elbow.

She watched his face contort in pain as the lightsaber cut cleanly through bone and muscle, shearing off the bottom half of his arm. It flopped in the dirt with a small puff of ash and Obi-wan followed it down, clutching what was left of his arm. She watched, slightly amazed, when Anakin didn't finish him off. The young Sith stared at his former master, writhing on the ground, and then simply powered down his blade and walked away.

The image faded as the tendril in her mind pulled away. And then she was back in the present, staring blankly at the empty space in front of her. Obi-wan's voice broke through the haze. "Now you know."

She didn't turn to look at him. She didn't want to see the look on his face. All she did was stand up and start walking back towards the starfighter. "Let's go. We need to find Luke before he makes another foolhardy attack."

Surprisingly, she felt a wave of relief roll off of him. He hadn't wanted to talk about it; he only wanted someone to know the truth, to understand why he turned out the way he turned out. He followed after her, both their feet crunching over burnt ground, leaving a cloud of gray dust behind them. He let her hop in first and then fit himself in front of her. He started it up and they left the atmosphere in silence.

Silence. She was beginning to hate it. "Where to?" he asked, as if he had just read her mind, breaking the silence for her.

She didn't answer his question. "Do you ever attack in duels?"

His shoulders stiffened slightly. "Once there's an opening."

"No. Do you ever just attack?"

There was a long pause. It wasn't that he didn't have an answer; he just didn't want to give it. Finally, he just sighed, and with a tone that was neither gloating nor prideful, he mumbled a barely audible answer. "I try not to. Killing is too easy for me." The underlying message paired with the disgust evident in his tone impressed her. Here was a man who had basically just said that if he attacked, the other guy would end up dead every time, yet he hated himself for it. She remembered their spar only a little bit ago, the way he had disarmed her too fast for her to see, in a fraction of a second. Ataru had two things going for it: acrobatics and speed. He just never showed his speed in attacking, because he preferred Soresu.

"Too easy," she echoed. "I can't say I believe you, because I've never seen you do it."

"Killing is never necessary."

"That can be debated."

His tone grew clipped. "Feel free. Just be prepared to lose."

She chuckled despite the heavy topic. "You're unbelievable, Kenobi."

"So I've heard." She knew he was smiling. And at the moment, that was enough.

Smiling didn't come easy to either of them anymore.

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_Okay, everyone. Here's the deal. I'm getting lots of readers and very few reviews. We'll see if we can't get more reviews... :) I'll be waiting!_

_"There are many things worth living for, a few things worth dying for, and nothing worth killing for." ~ Tom Robbins_


	6. POWER

__

Short chapter! :)_

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Power...

_It's a deceptive word. It's all I ever wanted growing up. The people in power made all the rules, called all the shots. They were higher than everyone else. I wanted to be them. I hated it when others thought I was inferior to them. Just because I was younger, just because I had been a slave, because I didn't know as much about everything as they did. People were stupid._

_But my master had been a smart man, even if he was a Jedi. He had been on the Council and was respected for his strategic genius, but mostly for his wisdom. That was why I hadn't understood when my master told me that power wasn't a good thing. That it caused rifts between races and planets, that power was born from greed and pride._

_How could it be bad if everyone in power enjoyed such a carefree life, ruling over everyone without any resistance? It made no sense. I thought my master was confused._

_I was only too wrong. _

_I have all the power anyone could ever hope for now. I'm on top of the world, no longer inferior, no longer being treated like dirt._

_And I hate my life._

_I'm never happy anymore._

_I miss flying for fun. I used to fly all the time, doing amazing aerial maneuvers just to annoy my former master, or to make him sick. One or the other. I miss his pancakes. My new master doesn't make pancakes. I miss sliding down the railings next to the stairs. I miss the younglings... but they were Jedi. They deserved to die._

_I miss Padme._

_And on the worst of days, when I've failed at something and my master sees fit to punish me, when I'm sizzling and smoking on the floor from the lightning, crazy thoughts begin to run through my head. Thoughts I know I shouldn't be thinking._

_Those are the days that I miss being a Jedi..._

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I know it's a super short chapter, but I would love it if you reviewed! Pleeease... and thank you! :)

"Power is not alluring to pure minds." ~ Thomas Jefferson


	7. Yavin 4

_Yay, a chapter without much angst! Enjoy! :)_

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Three weeks and they still hadn't found a blasted thing. Obi-wan patiently continued to suggest various planets and systems they could check, but Asajj had already reached the end of her patience. In fact, she was fed up after five days of searching. They were currently sitting at a table outside of a small shop on some random planet she had never heard about until now.

Obi-wan was chewing on a piece of something that resembled a dried piece of some type of meat. It smelled dreadful and she was sure he was purposely making those disgusting sounds just to annoy her. He was looking at a map, crossing off the places they had already been to and circling those that showed promise. She had been glaring at him for a good fifteen minutes now, determined to keep glaring until she got a reaction.

"What about the Outer Rim?" he asked, finally looking at her. He immediately took note of the glare and gave her an innocent look. "What?"

Asajj reached across the table and snatched the bag of dried… whatever out of his hands. "No more! It smells like it came out of the back end of a Gundark and it sounds even worse!"

Obi-wan didn't even crack a smile. He only shrugged. "Sorry. So, what about the Outer Rim? You think it's worth a shot?"

"Why do I bother?" she muttered, throwing her hands up. Then she sighed. "I don't know. Honestly, I don't know a safe planet out there that even I would be brave enough to set up a base on."

"I agree, but where else can we look? We've been to almost every other system."

"Almost. I say we check out the ones we haven't been to and then check the Rim if we don't find anything. You'd have to be either really stupid or born a fool to camp out in the Outer Rim."

He frowned and cocked a brow. "You take me as a fool, Ventress? I do believe I was living in the Outer Rim before you came along."

"That's different," she argued with a roll of her eyes. "We're talking about a rebel base, Obi-wan. A _military_ base. How many Outer Rim planets do you know of that are compromising enough to allow a group of soldiers set up a base on their surface?"

He winced, conceding the point. "I suppose I can't argue with that. There is one thing, though."

"What's that?"

He leaned forward, blue-gray eyes driving into dark brown, almost black ones. "Do you trust me?"

She leaned back and looked away for a moment before answering. When she did, her gaze was confident and her voice was firm. "You know the answer to that."

He gave her a small smile and a nod. "Good. And do you trust the Force?"

"It led me to you."

"Well right now, the Force is pointing me to the Outer Rim."

"Specific location?" she asked.

A calloused hand reached forward and a strong finger stabbed down on a system outlined in green. A large, penned circle was drawn around it. She flinched when she recognized it. "Yavin."

Obi-wan nodded. "Yavin 4 to be precise. The moon."

Old memories threatened to surface, but she pushed them to the very back of her mind and stamped them down. It would do neither of them any good to bring those up. "What makes you so sure?" she asked him.

His smile was almost bordering on cheeky and she felt the urge to call him on it. "Meditation is a wonderful thing, my dear. You should try it sometime."

"Don't bet on it," she mumbled.

"Why would I gamble on the impossible?" he deadpanned.

She broke one of his chair legs with the Force. Obi-wan Kenobi, former Jedi Master, legendary Negotiator, and expert on all things formal and diplomatic, landed with a very undignified flop right in the dirt.

They both stared at each other and then burst into laughter.

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This time Asajj was the pilot as they headed towards Yavin 4. Obi-wan needed the break and she figured it was about time he experienced the cramped position of being the one in the back. She couldn't stop the smile when he finally said something after a few hours. "Are we almost there?"

It sounded rather funny with his clipped, Coruscanti accent. "Really, Kenobi. I wouldn't have taken you for the 'are we there yet' type."

"I wasn't, until ten years after I met Anakin," was the gruff reply.

"I guess you have an excuse," she granted him. "Yes, we are almost there. Only about ten minutes."

"Good. I'm fairly certain that I'm cramping in places I am not supposed to cramp," he grunted out. She could feel him shifting around for a better position behind her.

"Now you know what I went through back there."

"I'm afraid it's slightly different with you, my dear, considering you're half my weight and at least four inches taller. I imagine it was rather easy for you to fit back here."

"Oh stuff it, Kenobi. You're just annoyed because my flying is a bit smoother than yours, so be quiet and let me fly," she snapped at him.

His exasperated sigh hit the back of her neck in a blast of warm air and for the first time, it seemed, she realized his legs were on either side of her and her back was pressed firmly against his hard, muscled chest. It was a rather… awkward… position. Obi-wan, oblivious to her thoughts, continued to argue with her. "Well when you fly with Anakin for any length of time, it's easy to pick up some rather nasty flying habits."

She shook her head, clearing her mind for the time being. "You can't possibly attribute every bad habit of yours to him!"

He let out a short laugh. "I beg to differ. Anakin became a legitimate excuse for almost anything. You know how he was."

A huff of annoyance escaped her. "Only too well." She paused to gesture ahead of them. "Yavin 4 is coming into view. What's the plan?"

She felt him try and cross his arms and smirked when he realized he couldn't due to their close proximity. "Well we can't spook them, but I'm not sure that there's a way to not do that. If this has been their base for even more than a month, then they most likely have every inch of air space covered with some type of radar system."

There was silence as they both tried to come up with a way around that scenario, but it was hopeless and they both knew it. As the starfighter entered the atmosphere, she clutched the controls a little tighter, preparing for the incoming fire that might join them in the sky. "Would you like to go for a more diplomatic approach or go in with guns blazing?"

"I thought you knew me better than that," he chastised.

She rolled her eyes. "Surrender it is. I'll try not to get us shot down in the process."

His answering smile reflected in the cockpit glass. "How considerate of you."

She groaned. "Just shut up." How did Anakin ever put up with so much sarcasm?

"Yes, milady."

She jerked her arm back, hearing a satisfying gasp as her elbow sank into his gut. "Oh sorry, did I hit you?" He muttered something, but then his arms suddenly shot around her to grab the controls and jerk them to the left. The fighter twisted out of the way of two laser blasts shot from below. "Concentrate!" he bellowed.

She shoved his arms back. "Quit talking and I might be able to!" She could smell the ionization as more blasts blew by them, some grazing one of their wings and she pushed the stick forward, sending them into a steep dive to escape some of the heavier fire. She leveled out and twisted it into a barrel role to avoid some other blasts. "Is there a way to contact them!" she shouted back at him.

"Hand me the comm.; I'll see if I can find the right signal!" She tossed it backwards and winced when it smacked into his head. "Lovely. Thanks for that," he grumbled.

"Any time!" she shot back before juking out of the way of yet another blast of fire. "I'm going to find a place to land!"

Obi-wan didn't answer. She heard some crackling fuzz as he switched between different channels. When he thought he had the right one, he raised it to his mouth. "Jedi starfighter to rebel base, do you copy?"

There was no answer, but the fire stopped. Obi-wan repeated what he'd said and this time someone answered. "Land in the clearing directly below you. Any funny business and we'll blow you away."

"Thanks for the invite," Obi-wan replied before handing the comm. back to Asajj.

She took it with a slightly annoyed glare. "You know, cutting the sarcasm might help our cause a little bit."

He gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I can't really help it."

She faced ahead again. "You know, I honestly believe you. You really can't help it, can you?"

A lighthearted chuckle was his answer.

She landed the starfighter right in the middle of the designated clearing and powered it down. A pop sounded as the cockpit snapped open, but the two of them stayed put. They were absolutely surrounded by rebels. On all sides. Most held blasters, but they weren't raised yet. They were merely being cautious and she couldn't blame them. After all, how many starfighters careen into their atmosphere claiming to be Jedi?

One rebel stepped forward. He could possibly pass as Obi-wan's double if he wanted to. Only slightly taller than the older man, the rebel had dark brown hair and sported the same scruffy hairstyle. Unfortunately, Asajj noticed when he began to speak, the man did not have Obi-wan's charming accent. "How did you find us?" he asked in a gruff voice.

Asajj smiled at him, trying to be polite. "It's not difficult when you follow the call of the Force."

The man raised a brow. "The Force led you here did it? I find that difficult to believe. Vader is the strongest Force-user alive and he has yet to find us."

"Anyone can use the Force. Very few choose to listen to it." Leave it to Obi-wan to readily jump in with an argument.

The man's eyes narrowed, presumably at the Jedi's accent. Since Coruscant's fall, Asajj doubted the accent was as popular as it once was. "Please step out of the cockpit. Both of you. Keep your hands where I can see them." They obeyed him, Obi-wan willingly, Asajj a little hesitantly. She wasn't fond of being held prisoner. The man stepped forward and before either of them could react, both of their lightsabers were flying into his hands. "You claim to be Jedi," he mused, examining the lightsabers. He held Obi-wan's up. "Yet from what I've heard, a Jedi's weapon is a little more elaborate than the simple style I see on this hilt."

Asajj glanced at Obi-wan. If she responded, things could get really bad really fast. She never had responded well to criticism. To her relief, Obi-wan remained his annoyingly stoic self, his face shifting into diplomat mode. A simpler way to describe it might have been to call it the "Literally About to Die From Boredom Face". "I find that it is not the weapon that fights a war, but the master who wields it," he responded, adding a slight edge to his already icy tone. The man glared at Obi-wan and Asajj felt the tiniest bit of pity for him. One who challenges Obi-wan to a staring match, she had learned, was always destined to lose.

"Still, not very impressive for a Jedi's weapon," the man continued, choosing to ignore Obi-wan's comment. "The probability of you two being Jedi is very, very small, I might add. The Jedi Purge eliminated over ninety percent of them twenty years ago, if you recall."

Asajj swallowed, holding back her remark. Obi-wan, however, did not. "I recall it very well," he calmly replied, eyes unwavering and unblinking. "I fell over two-hundred feet into a pool of water after my own soldiers shot me off the face of a cliff. Memories like those are hard to forget."

The man visibly flinched as if smacked. To his credit, though, he didn't answer with a retort. Instead, he crossed his arms and sighed. "I would still ask that you present me with some sort of proof as to your identities. I believe it's only fair."

Obi-wan nodded. "I agree. However, we are here to see Luke Skywalker. If you would kindly tell him to come, we may indulge you with a few answers to your questions."

The man's eyes widened a little in surprise, but then he recovered and gave them a curt nod. "Very well." He raised a comm. unit to his mouth and spoke a few words.

The rebels, the former Sith, and the former Jedi stood silently for what seemed like an eternity. Then they saw him. Luke. Asajj was struck dumb for a moment, her eyes widening in shock, her mouth slightly agape. She thought for a second that she was staring at Anakin. A glance at Obi-wan proved the same for him, the only difference being that his eyes were growing watery and hers were not.

Luke looked to be around twenty years old, though there was a maturity about him that made him seem older. His hair was brown, his build tall and sturdy, but not as tall as his father. He had striking eyes, a blue so clear they gave the waters of Naboo a run for their money. He strode towards the front, staring at the two trespassers through steely eyes. "You asked for me?"

"We've been looking for you, Luke," Obi-wan began. "We saw your –"

Luke held up a hand. "Dispense with the talking for just a sec and why don't you two provide some names? Kyle says you claim to be Jedi. I promise you I've read enough records of the Clone wars to know if you're lying."

Obi-wan hesitated this time. She knew as well as he did that telling Luke their true names could have an unwanted reaction, but she also knew that he wasn't about to lie to Anakin's son. He chose neither option. He sighed heavily. "I'm afraid you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Rather than growing angry, Luke stared thoughtfully at them. Then he crossed his arms. "Fine then. You will remain in holding until further notice. Kyle," he said, turning towards the bearded man. "Make sure they're secured. You may want to shoot some force suppressors in them to be on the safe side."

She finally felt a pang of irritation from Obi-wan. He took a step forward, but immediately froze when thirty blaster barrels rose around him. "We're not enemies, Luke. I assure you the force suppressors are not necessary."

To Asajj's surprise, Luke walked over until he was standing right in front of Obi-wan, staring down at him through hard, cold eyes. Had Luke known Kenobi during the Clone Wars, she was almost positive he wouldn't have attempted such a stunt. She was half prepared for Kenobi to put him in his place then and there, but he didn't. Obi-wan held Luke's gaze, but he didn't say anything. Luke smiled a little. "If you were truly a Jedi, you would not surrender so willingly. Though an Order of peace, I've read that the Jedi were rather fierce warriors."

Obi-wan smiled. It was a smile that sent a shiver down her spine. "Don't assume that because you've read a few stories about the past that that makes you an expert on such things."

Luke only stepped back and laughed. A few of the other men let out some nervous chuckles. Asajj had to smirk. These men, with the exception of Luke and Kyle, were frightened by them. "We'll see how strong you are once you're in a holding cell," Luke stated. He motioned with one of his hands and a middle-aged man strode towards them, blaster at the ready in case they decided to try anything. He pulled out a syringe, drawing a wince from Asajj. "I hate needles," she whispered to Obi-wan. She scowled when Obi-wan ignored her, rolling up one of his sleeves instead. The man smirked, raising the needle to Kenobi's neck instead. Obi-wan flinched a little when the needle broke his skin, and Asajj felt nauseous as the man emptied the entire syringe into his neck. She felt dizzy when he stepped towards her with another one in his hand.

She didn't even feel the prick. She only felt Obi-wan's strong arms catch her before she fainted into black.

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_I promise Luke really isn't as arrogant as he sounds in this chapter, if that was bugging any of you. Please Review! I can't keep writing unless I'm getting input! :)_

_Just as a side note, this was the last of the chapters that I already had written before posting this story, so now that I actually have to write more, I'm sorry to say that the reviews will be a little less frequent._

_"Sarcasm: the last refuge of modest and chaste-souled people when the privacy of their soul is coarsely and intrusively invaded." ~ Fyodor Dostoevsky_


	8. False Hope

_I am terribly sorry it took so long for me to get this updated. I was kind of burned out of writing for a while and finals were coming up for school, so this story was put on hold for a while. Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy... :)_

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Asajj woke up the next morning and she shuddered as she did so. The image of that man coming at her with a fully loaded syringe was enough to bring back memories that she had tried so hard to forget. There was still a dull throb in her arm where the needle had entered her skin, but she pushed the pain away, determined to focus on something else. Namely where she was. She still couldn't touch the Force and she vaguely wondered if they had shot more suppressors into her when she was sleeping. The thoughts drifted from her mind as she examined the "holding cell" they had placed her in.

The first thing she noticed was that Obi-wan was no longer with her. The cell was empty except for her and a small sleeping mat in one corner. It was certainly nothing fancy like the ones she remembered using back in the day. There were no fancy locking mechanisms, durasteel walls, or ray shields. In all appearances, the cell was a simple concrete box with one side barred off. It was crude, but rather effective, she determined. She had been reduced to a mere prisoner. They had taken away her weapon and had blocked her use of the Force. Once they had done that, a concrete box was all they really needed.

She huffed in frustration. There was no way of escaping, at least not for the time being. And if she knew Obi-wan as well as she thought she did, he wouldn't approve of escape anyway.

The sleeping mat suddenly looked inviting and she sat down cross-legged and closed her eyes. Obi-wan had suggested trying meditation, so she was going to give it a go. Even though she couldn't sink into the Force, it was relaxing enough to just sit there and calm her nerves while thinking about the events of the last month or so.

Slowly, her taut muscles began to loosen and she slumped back against the wall. Eventually, her thoughts began to drift and a hazy blanket of gray began to invade her mind. Within a few minutes, Asajj was dozing peacefully without a care in the world.

~~OOO~~

Obi-wan sat against the back wall of his cell, legs stretched out in front of him, arms crossed and lying gently on his lap. He had been sitting that way for almost five hours now, observing the blank hallway outside his cell and the cells across from him. Asajj was nowhere to be seen, but he assumed she was close just because a small army of rebels such as these wouldn't have the materials to build any fancy facilities. And he doubted they actually used the holding cells very often anyway.

He had to give them credit, though. With what they had to work with, they had certainly put together a rather inescapable prison. It surprised him to discover that by merely taking away his weapon and shooting force suppressors into him, the rebels had made it so that he, one of the most famous Jedi in the history of the Order, couldn't even escape a concrete box with a few bars. A normal person would have been angry or, at the very least, annoyed, but Obi-wan was only slightly amused. At first he had been a little irked, but he knew they were only taking precautions and he couldn't blame them.

He was curious about Luke, though. For some reason, he had been expecting Anakin's son to be a little more welcoming. Unfortunately, Luke appeared to be just as arrogant and foolhardy as his father had been. When they met, though, Obi-wan had sensed fear behind the confident exterior the boy had built up. And yes, he concluded, Luke was still a boy. Barely twenty-one, Anakin's son was still in that transition stage towards becoming a man. Though, battle-hardened and in a position of leadership, Obi-wan could tell that Luke was struggling with where he was at this time in his life.

Luke reminded him of Anakin.

An exhausted sigh escaped him and he closed his eyes. Luke looked so much like his father it hurt to look at him. Though the boy's hair was a light shade of brown now, Obi-wan knew that as a child it had to have been a light blonde, and he was sure there had been freckles on his face. The eyes were just as blue and just as bright as Anakin's had been. The only difference was in height. Anakin was a couple inches taller, but Luke still had Obi-wan beat by an inch or so.

He crossed his arms tighter, trying to squeeze away the small throb in his beating heart. He almost felt like screaming out at Asajj, wherever she was, and telling her just what he felt about her convincing him to come. One of these times, he feared all of his pent up anger was going to explode out of him, but for now he would remain controlled. He could deal with this. He _would_ deal with this.

Because he had to.

His mind drifted. Soon he was back on Mustafar facing a hurt, confused, and manipulated young man. Anakin stared back at him, a small, sinister smile on his face. Then his brother's face faded and Luke appeared, eyes a sickly yellow instead of blue.

Obi-wan's eyes flashed open and he took in a long, unsteady breath and let it out slowly. He hoped he wouldn't fail Luke the same way he had failed Anakin. He cast a quick glance up at the almost invisible camera that was staring down at him. He stared at it for a moment and then lowered his eyes once more. Being alone with one's thoughts was torturous after a certain point.

~~OOO~~

Luke sat in an old, worn chair behind an outdated security console. Blue eyes stared intently at a screen to his left. The man had just looked right at him as if he knew he was being watched. The expression on his face had been one of both boredom and impatience. And the gray eyes had been positively haunting.

"Well, can we go talk to them now?"

Luke glanced at the man seated next to him and pursed his lips. He had been hoping to get a reaction out of his two prisoners, but so far, after an entire night spent alone in separate holding cells, all he had received was a bored glance into one of the cameras. The woman was a little more on edge than her partner. But even that only resulted in a few minutes of pacing and then a determined flop onto the sleeping mat. Now she was fast asleep with a gentle smile on her face.

He sighed. "I guess we probably should. I don't think we're going to figure much out from watching them any longer."

Kyle smirked at him and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to come to that conclusion. It took a little too long, if you ask me."

Luke rolled his eyes and followed Kyle out into the hallway. "So I'm a little slow. Big deal." They walked on in silence. He wondered if he should let Kyle talk to the man or the woman.

They exited into the warm sun and trudged across a grassy yard towards the holding block. Luke input the security code and held the heavy door open for Kyle. Once inside, Luke turned to Kyle and gestured towards the door to the holding cells. "Why don't you talk to the man first? Try to get a name out of him and maybe where he's from. I don't believe they are Imperial spies or soldiers, but I'm not exactly certain that they can be trusted yet."

"Sounds good. Are there any chairs around here? I think this is going to take a bit longer than it should."

Luke pointed at the door with a grin. "Sorry, I didn't think that far ahead."

Kyle just shook his head and opened the door.

~~OOO~~

Obi-wan had just managed to calm his breathing when he heard the door open down the hall. The sharp sound of boots on the concrete floor echoed through the small holding block and a soft breeze swept through his cell as some fresh air managed to find its way in from outside. He breathed it in and smiled. It smelled of vegetation and flowers, and there was no mistaking the dank smell of mud. It smelled of life. He was able to relax and push the painful thoughts away.

Black, knee-high boots stopped outside his cell and he stared, almost jealously, at the mud caked on the bottom of them. He wanted to be outside, not stuck in this bare, lifeless cell. His eyes continued to stare at the mud, but his mind had drifted once more. This time it was a much older memory of a time when younglings still ran through the halls of the Temple, causing mischief and mayhem wherever they went. He and Garen had often escaped outside to play in the rain, building mud castles with catapults to defend them from the giant green troll who would come and destroy them with his blasted gimer stick… he smiled. Those were the good old days.

"Are you okay?"

Obi-wan blinked. The memory faded and his eyes rose from the boots to the scruffy face staring down at him. Kyle? Is that what Luke had called him? He offered the man a smirk. "Just fine, thank you. I only just now realized how old I'm getting. It was a rather alarming realization."

It was the other man's turn to blink and a blank stare was all Obi-wan received until a grin slowly started to spread across Kyle's face. "It's hard not to think about those kinds of things when you're by yourself for over ten hours."

"I'm glad you can relate," Obi-wan dryly replied. He then gestured at the bars to his cell. "Would you like to come in? We're both men, after all. I'm not going to eat you or anything."

That drew a chuckle from the younger man and Obi-wan smiled back. He had effectively disarmed his captor from whatever authority he had been hanging on to. Kyle took out a small metal key and let himself in, being careful to lock the door once more. As he was doing so, Obi-wan felt a gentle, yet powerful sensation roll over him. He welcomed it with open arms.

The Force suppressors had worn off. Finally.

"So, what can I do for you?" Obi-wan began, eyeing the man with something akin to grudging surprise. Kyle didn't seem weary or on edge at all. In fact, he was just as relaxed as Obi-wan was, or at least he was acting that way.

Kyle leaned against the wall to Obi-wan's left, leaving generous space between them. Though relaxed and knowing the man was blocked from the Force, Kyle was taking no chances. "Well, Luke figured we can't leave you two in here forever, so we decided to come and have a little chat instead, to get to know you better, that sort of thing."

Obi-wan was somewhat disappointed now. One of these days, he was hoping to run into someone who would just get straight to the point during an interrogation rather than trying to act like they genuinely cared about what was being said. "I see. Well I suppose we'd better get on with this little chat, then, so you can get back to whatever you were doing before."

"We have plenty of time, trust me," Kyle said.

"Good. So why are you here, Kyle? What's your reason for fighting the Empire?"

Kyle's eyes narrowed slightly. "I will ask you the questions and you will answer them. This conversation is not about me."

Unwilling to jump into a childish stare down, Obi-wan merely nodded and gestured with his good hand. "Very well, then. Fire away."

"Why did you come here?" Kyle asked, gazing down at the older man from his spot against the wall.

"I believe I already told you when we first landed." Obi-wan was growing impatient, and his tone conveyed that.

"Right. To see Luke," Kyle said with a slight nod. "Why were you searching for Luke?"

This was where it got a little tricky. Obi-wan did not want to reveal any connection he had with Luke through his past, but at the same time, he was not about to lie to someone whose trust he was trying to gain. With an irritated sigh, he glanced away from Kyle and looked down at his hands. "Well, to be honest, I didn't want to come here. My friend convinced me that you guys might need some help fighting the Empire and so we decided to –"

"Help?" Kyle echoed, narrowing his eyes a bit. "What makes you think we need any help?"

Arrogance. Obi-wan hated it… well, strongly _disliked_ it. Jedi do not hate. His eyes rose once more to lock onto those of the younger man. "You have a decent force of men here and a chance at defeating the Empire, but only if your following gets larger. A victory here and a victory there are nothing in the long run."

"Our following is larger than just this base. I assure you we have plenty of men to wage war."

"Then why haven't you?" Obi-wan asked.

There was a small pause as Kyle stared at Obi-wan, contemplating his answer. Finally, the younger man sighed. "We have a large enough force to wage war, but just barely. And the pilots we do have are few, not to mention inexperienced. The victories we have acquired were solely by luck."

Obi-wan gazed at Kyle, a thoughtful look on his face. "So, why not accept help when it is offered?"

"Trust doesn't come easily these days," Kyle said with a hard glare.

"I didn't ask for your trust," Obi-wan pointed out. "I'm only asking you to let us help. We are not just two people who happened to stumble on to your planet."

"So who are you?" Kyle asked. "A name would be nice."

"You won't believe me."

"Maybe not," Kyle agreed. "But just to establish a little ground between us."

Obi-wan ground his teeth together. This was not going to go well. "Very well. My name is Obi-wan Kenobi."

Kyle stood there silently for what seemed like an eternity. Obi-wan swore he heard a piece of dust hit the floor. When Kyle did speak, it was not in a friendly tone. "What sort of game are you playing here? Do you honestly think we have time for this? There are no Jedi! Get that through your kriffin' head!"

Obi-wan felt the slightest twinge of anger begin to rise within him, but he coolly forced it away. Instead, he calmly observed the man standing across from him. "And who told you that? Who told you that Darth Vader, in all his Force-given power, successfully eliminated every last Jedi that was living at the time of the Purge?"

Kyle took a few steps forward and crouched down so that they were seeing eye to eye. "It's common knowledge. Everyone knows that, and no good will come from inspiring false hopes in those men. The Jedi are gone. Dead. Extinct. The only Force-sensitives alive now are those who have no understanding of the power that runs through their veins."

"And you do?" Obi-wan inquired.

"Myself included," Kyle muttered.

"Have you salvaged the Temple ruins? I'm sure there are plenty of old recordings…"

"Destroyed during the Purge, or were you not listening?" Kyle asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. "There. Is. Nothing. Left."

Obi-wan's eyes flashed as he leaned forward. "There is plenty left, but you and your men refuse to see past the lies that the emperor has created. Not everything was destroyed."

"Step out of your fantasy world, old man, and come into reality," was the bitter retort. "It's not quite as pretty and hopeful as you imagine." Kyle stood up and took a few steps towards the door. "I'll be back in a few hours. Maybe then you'll have gotten back a little bit of your sanity and we can talk like we both know what's going on in this world."

He turned away and reached for the key on his belt, but his hands closed over air. He fumbled around looking for it before turning towards Obi-wan with a somewhat puzzled expression. Obi-wan held up the small key and Kyle held out a hand. "I don't know how you got it, but give it back."

Obi-wan closed his hand around it and crossed his arms. "I already surrendered once and you shot Force-suppressors into me. What makes you think I'll surrender again?"

"Those suppressors weren't supposed to wear off for another six hours," Kyle said through gritted teeth, realizing how Obi-wan had gotten the key. "How is it that yours have?"

Obi-wan raised a brow. "Force-suppressors aren't very common nowadays, but during the Clone Wars they were used quite frequently. The more a body gets shot by them, the faster they wear off. I assure you I spent my fair share of time in captivity during that time and my body has become quite adept at fighting those things off." Then he paused and smirked. "But that can't possibly be true, because all of the Jedi that fought in the Clone Wars were killed, according to the emperor."

Kyle huffed in frustration and stepped towards the older man. "I don't care how you want to explain it. Just give the key back or I'll take it from you."

Obi-wan remained seated on the floor, apparently considering what Kyle had said. Then he shrugged. "I think I'll keep it. I rather enjoy talking with you and I've been all by myself for the last twelve hours or so."

Kyle walked over, stopped a foot away and stared down at the older man. "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you think. I don't believe your twisted lies and I'm pretty sure I've got a better understanding of the Force than you do, no matter how small it may be. So, I'm going to ask one last time. Give me the key."

Obi-wan sighed and held out the key. "Well, if you insist, though you didn't really ask. It was more of a demand…"

Kyle just snatched the key away and rolled his eyes. "Whatever you want to call it. Sit tight, Jedi wannabe. I'll be back later."

He turned around and took a few steps before a Force-push hit him from behind and he stumbled forward. The key fell from his grasp and he reached for it. Just before his fingers closed around it, the key suddenly shifted directions and flew through the bars of the cell door to land on the other side of the hallway.

Kyle laughed a little at the older man's naive thinking. He stretched out a hand and called on the Force. The key flew swiftly back towards him. "Really? Did you forget that I can use the Force too? Wow. I didn't think you were that –" There was another pulse in the Force and Kyle felt his grasp on the key waver and then shatter. The key flew just past his hand, picking up speed as it went by. He turned, shocked.

Obi-wan's eyes never left Kyle's face as he shifted slightly to the left. The key slammed into the concrete wall beside him with enough force that it shattered. There was a moment of stunned silence before Kyle turned his eyes back to Obi-wan.

Whatever he was about to say left his mind as the older man smiled innocently and merely shrugged.

"Oops."

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_Please Review! It's been a while since I've updated, so let me know if it turned out alright! :)_

_"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." ~ Oscar Wilde_


	9. ANGER

**Yeah... sorry I took forever... but here it is! Another short chapter from Anakin's POV! Enjoy! :)**_

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_Anger…_

_My master never knew it would be his downfall. He taught me how to harness it and use it as a source of strength, but he taught me that only so that I would be a more capable puppet for him to use. I don't think he knew that I knew I was being used that way._

_I tolerated it at first, not really caring much what he had in store for me each day. It brought me satisfaction, to see all of those traitorous Jedi suffer at my hands, to see them finally get what they deserved. I fed off their pain. It made me stronger._

_Hunting Jedi was fun. It provided a challenge, and in the end, the galaxy was one step closer to being rid of them completely. And for this reason, and this reason only, I was willing to cooperate. There was logic behind what he was telling me to do, and so even though I wasn't very fond of him, I was still willing to work with him on this._

_It was a fine line we were walking, though. It was inevitable that he would cross it one day, and to be honest, I was actually looking forward to it. Yes, I tolerated him. I let him lord over me and I even let him hurt me on the really bad days. But I was starting to tire of the act, and I was tired of seeing those faces in my mind. Force lightning had a paralyzing effect on the mind, and mine always seemed to get frozen on faces of the ones who had betrayed me._

_Obi-wan was the more frequent one I saw. His betrayal was an open sore that had been festering for the last two decades now. I still don't know why I let him live._

_I would see Mace sometimes, but only briefly. His betrayal hadn't hurt that much. We had always had a hate-hate relationship._

_I saw the younglings sometimes, actually almost as frequent as I saw Obi-wan. They were the ones that made my stomach clench with unwanted guilt. It wasn't really their fault that they were Jedi, but I kept telling myself that what I did had to be done._

_And I saw Padme._

_She hadn't betrayed me. She wouldn't do that. The Jedi had manipulated her into believing their horrible lies and because of them, she turned against me. And she's dead. I felt her die the same day I left Obi-wan lying in the ash. It's his fault she's dead._

_I can't bear to see her face anymore. Every time the lightning rips through my mind and body, her face is glowing, as if she's still alive. It's beautiful, the way she smiles. Her smile would make people stare, it was so radiant. It seems so out of place now, in this world, and I can't take it anymore._

_I suppose I would've killed him that day even if he hadn't crossed the line. But he crossed it anyway. _

_No, he didn't cross it… he grabbed on to it, tore it in two, and then waved the pieces right in my face._

_I am a Sith lord now. I understand that, I know what it entails, and I willingly chose to follow that path. But I'm different in one respect. _

_I'm a Sith lord with morals. I'm pretty sure I'm the first one of my kind in the history of the universe. Actually, I really only have one rule that I stick to. Anyone that deserves to die, I will kill without hesitation. The Jedi deserved to die. They deserved what I gave them._

_The Imperial soldiers do not. They are only doing what is asked of them and they do it to the best of their ability. They have done nothing wrong._

_He cut one down right in front of me that day. For reporting that the rebel forces still had yet to be found. Sidious took out his red blade and cut the man's body in half with one swift stroke._

_Anger._

_He taught me to harness it. But he didn't teach me how to use it. I use it how I see fit. And cutting down innocent, frightened little soldiers like they meant nothing was one way to basically destroy that fine line and send me right over the edge._

_He never expected the slice to his shoulder. I gave him the same death he had just dished out and his body fell to the floor without pause. Anger was his downfall._

_I stared at the two bodies beneath me, mind a thousand miles away. And, suddenly, it was a different body below me. Ginger hair, color-changing eyes, one arm missing, groans of agony… I blinked and the image faded away. It was justified. He deserved it._

_But he was the reason I had just destroyed my master. He was the reason I would no longer feel the lightning or be tortured by a sea of endless faces. He was the reason no more Imperial soldiers would die without cause. He told me that every life is valuable. Every life is worth something. And nobody deserves to die._

_Aside from the last of the three, I agree wholeheartedly. This confused me, that I would still stick to his teachings despite the fact that he was and still is a traitorous liar. _

_It's strange, that a traitor like him should acquire so much respect. Not only from others, but from me as well. _

_Anger. He never knew it. He never used it. He never encouraged it._

_Anger was what left him lying in the ash, but it wasn't his downfall. I don't even think he fell. He's still out there, as strong as ever._

_And I'm stuck here, in the most powerful position in the galaxy, brooding over my past, my present, and my future. And even as I stand here thinking, staring at two dead bodies, I can't help but wonder if anger will be my downfall as well._

**Any thoughts? Leave a review! :)**

**"Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers, for each rage leaves him less than he had been before - it takes something from him." ~ Louis L'Amour**


	10. Compassion

_I was able to get this one up a little quicker than usual! Well... sort of... Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! Happy New Year!_

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Asajj was dreaming. She hadn't dreamed in years.

It was Ohma-D'un, the moon on which she had first met Kenobi. Obi-wan would have appreciated the irony in the dream. She hated her past, yet this dream brought a wistful smile to her sleeping countenance. The moment replayed itself in her head as if it had happened yesterday. The imagery was that vivid.

The moon had been one of the most humid places she had ever been to; full of lush forests and hundreds of swamps, it was wet to the core. As much as she had hated it then, she couldn't help but admire the oddly beautiful terrain in her dream.

It played out like she remembered. She and Durge had brought a poisonous gas to the moon, intent on wiping out every last gungan that inhabited the area. They had caught the Jedi completely off guard with their strength and numbers. This was the first time Asajj had made herself known to the Jedi.

He appeared in her dream exactly as he had appeared those many years ago. His hair had been longer and shaggier than it was now, unkempt and streaked with mud from the swamps. There were fewer wrinkles on his face and he carried himself differently, almost with more confidence. Or, rather, a different sort of confidence. One borne from determination and youthful inexperience.

That had been one of only two times she had almost killed him. Durge had almost taken his head off first with a poorly-aimed blaster shot, and Asajj had taken it upon herself to finish the job. She was so close, had been barely a second away from ending the life of the young master. Then Skywalker had arrived and the battle had changed, with her being on the retreating side.

The dream slowed when it came to the moment when she had turned to get one more glimpse of the Jedi that had eluded her. Her eyes locked with the most vibrant blue gaze she had ever had the pleasure of seeing. She had missed it then, back when things had been different and they were still enemies. She had missed the confusion in his eyes, mistaking it for loathing. But it was different in the dream, now that the moment was being played out in slow motion.

He had seen her light. The confusion was caused by the inability to understand. He hadn't known why she was so dark.

The moment started to fade at that point, as if the Force had showed her all that she was meant to see at that particular time. The last thing she saw before it faded to black was Kenobi's gaze, still locked on her face, as she turned away to follow Durge into the thick growth of the swamp. She had been the first to look away.

Even as she began to stir, Asajj still saw his face in her mind, the eyes flashing with swirling hues of blue and green. It had yet to fade to that dull gray she was so familiar with now. She would have to ask him sometime what had caused the change, if he even knew.

Her eyes blinked open and she squinted, trying to adjust to the light. When everything came into focus, her gaze settled on the young man standing just outside her cell. She smiled. "Luke Skywalker," she said. "What a pleasure it is to finally meet you properly."

~~OOO~~

Luke had watched the lady in silent contemplation. It was curious, the way that she smiled when whatever she was dreaming about clearly troubled her. He could feel the slight quickening of her heartbeat, her distress a subtle throb in the Force.

But her smile had been genuine, one glowing with both joy and gratefulness at the same time. He wondered what she was so grateful for that caused even a few tears to accompany that smile. It was confusing. The emotion he felt in the Force was in complete contrast to the emotion on her face. He didn't have enough time to decipher it, though, since she was now stirring and her eyes were blinking open.

As she adjusted to the light, she reached up and subconsciously wiped the tear streaks from her pale face. He wondered if she really knew that they were there. Then she turned and fixed him in her sights. She smiled again. "Luke Skywalker," she said. "What a pleasure it is to finally meet you properly."

He didn't answer at first, instead choosing to observe her face and see if he could pick up any clues as to what she had been dreaming about. All he got in return was a poker face with a poker smile. Luke sighed and sat down outside the cell, legs crossed, back straight. This way he could talk to her on her level. "Nice to meet you too. I'm… um… sorry for how we first met. Yesterday wasn't the greatest day in the world and I wasn't in the greatest mood." He stopped, hoping that she would accept his apology and forget about the whole Force-suppressant deal.

Her head tilted to the left and her smile almost transitioned into a smirk. "No need to point that out; it was quite obvious." She paused. "Apology accepted, though. At least now I know you're not the arrogant, self-centered jerk I first took you for."

He felt a brief rush of anger, but he smothered it with a light chuckle. "Thanks, I guess. I don't think you actually told me your name…"

"Asajj Ventress."

Luke's brow furrowed. "No offense, but that's a strange name. You're not from around here are you?"

She actually laughed. "Please… spare me your subtle hints and questions, will you? I've been through enough interrogations to know how it works. Don't insult my intelligence by asking questions I'm smart enough not to answer."

Luke actually felt a little guilty and bowed his head slightly. "Sorry… I just sort of blurted it out. Do you mind if I ask you what you were dreaming about?"

Her smile disappeared to be replaced by a contemplative gaze. Her sharp brown eyes narrowed slightly. "Why would you need to know?"

"I'm only curious," Luke explained, trying to be as truthful as possible. If his suspicions were correct, then this woman was far more experienced in the ways of the Force than he was. "You smiled in your sleep, which led me to believe that it was a good dream, but your signature in the Force was anything but happy."

She looked surprised for a moment, but it was quickly covered up as she stared back at him. "It _was_ a good dream. More good than bad, but still bad in some ways. It was an old memory. We'll leave it at that."

Well, that was the end of that conversation. Luke frowned, but knew that it wouldn't do any good to pursue it any longer. He tactfully chose to change topics. "I was just wondering. Anyways, I don't think you ever told me why you guys came here. Yes, I know. Classic interrogation question, but I would still like to know."

This time it actually was a smirk and she casually crossed her arms. "Very well, young man. I guess I can answer that one for you. You see, my stubborn friend over in that other cell is rather hard-headed when it comes to certain things, and well, there are some specific… instances… in his past that need mending." She trailed off to shake her head. Luke watched her glance up at the ceiling for a quick second before closing her eyes as if thinking about what she was going to say next. "He's going to kill me for telling you this…"

"Then don't," Luke was quick to reply. "I don't want to know things that I shouldn't know."

Asajj opened her eyes once more and gave a dismissive wave. "No, it's fine. You're not going to hear it from him, so I have to tell you anyways. Luke… there was a person in his past that did a terrible thing to him many years ago and it's still hurting him to this day. He's the kind of person that will keep it all bottled up inside and not seek any help, so I really had to push him to come here."

"But why here? What does this have to do with me?" By this time, Luke could hear Kyle getting into a rather heated discussion with the man in the other cell and he took a second to mute them out with a light Force-shield. Then he turned back to the woman. "I've never met him before in my life."

"Well, Luke, you have the unfortunate pleasure of being the only connection that he has to that person. I thought it would do him some good to come see you, not to mention that I also thought that we could help you guys out a little in terms of the Imperials that you seem to be good at annoying."

Luke gave a curt nod. "Great. So you're trying to tell me that I'll probably be having a heart-to-heart conversation with a complete stranger in a few days about a past I have no part in that involves a person that I know nothing about. This day is turning out to be almost as bad as yesterday." He groaned and rubbed his forehead. Then something suddenly struck him as strange. "Wait a second. You're Asajj Ventress? I read somewhere that she was a Sith. Are you telling me that you're _that_ Ventress?" He looked at her, blue eyes suddenly hard and accusing.

She merely stared back at him, unfazed. "I used to be," she softly answered. "You seem to have a natural grasp of the Force for someone so young. Tell me, Luke. Am I dark?"

Luke blinked. While she wasn't exactly the brightest signature in the Force, she certainly wasn't dark. She was more gray, venturing towards the light side. "No," he stated, a smile growing on his face. "You're not. But you're the same person?"

She smiled back. "Even Sith can be saved. Remember that."

"So who's the other guy?" Luke asked, his voice growing slightly irritated. He was no longer able to block out the two men down the hall a little ways.

"He's the reason I'm no longer a Sith."

Luke accepted the answer without comment and silently mused on it. Asajj was obviously very loyal to the man, whoever he was. So far, she hadn't really given out any information, only a vague story that explained why they were here. He stood up and looked at her, reaching for the key on his belt. At the sound of metal striking concrete, Luke glanced sharply down the hall before unlocking Asajj's cell. "Even though you really haven't told me much, I think I can trust you."

She stood up in a single, graceful movement. Luke noticed for the first time how tall she was, almost a head taller than his own lanky frame. "Took you long enough," she said. There was a small teasing note in her voice.

Luke opened the door with a loud creak and stepped aside, allowing her to exit. "I know. Now let's go see what those two are up to. It doesn't sound like they are getting along very well."

Asajj strode straight by him without a backwards glance. "What a genius observation," she muttered, before mentally smacking herself. Obi-wan's sarcasm was rubbing off. She was slightly relieved when Luke didn't bite out a retort.

The sight that greeted her when she reached Obi-wan's cell was almost enough to send her over the edge into a fit of laughter. Obi-wan was leaning against the back wall, legs stretched out and crossed in front of him, arms folded gently on his lap. The shattered remains of what she assumed was a key were scattered on his right side and Kyle was standing over him with a look of pure annoyance on his face. Obi-wan had a bored expression on his face, but his eyes lit up when he spotted her. He smiled a little. "Well hello, my dear. Kyle and I were just finishing up, but there's been a small accident involving the key to the door."

Kyle snapped out of his daze and glared daggers at the older man. "Accident?" he spewed. "You shattered it!"

"I may have used a little more pull than I should have, but at least it hit the wall instead of my head," Obi-wan argued as if it was completely reasonable.

"I wouldn't call it fortunate," Kyle muttered. "The world would be one lunatic less than it is."

"Hey!" Asajj began, starting forward before realizing that there were still bars between them. She frowned. She still couldn't touch the Force, and Obi-wan, it seemed, was perfectly content to leave the situation as it was. "Listen, you little pipsqueak –"

"Pipsqueak?" There was a smirk on Obi-wan's face. "Really, Asajj. I had such high hopes for you, but calling someone a 'pipsqueak' is a tad bit dark, wouldn't you say?"

Her steely glare transferred from the younger man to the Jedi master seated on the floor. Blasted sarcasm. "Just shut up, Kenobi," she growled. He only grinned wider.

Kyle looked between the both of them and then narrowed his gaze. "I fail to see what is so funny." He turned to face Obi-wan again. "Well, Mr. High and Mighty, you can use the Force now, so why don't you break us out of here?"

Obi-wan merely shrugged. "I thought about it."

"Why not?"

"Why?" Obi-wan countered. "Besides, you can do it yourself? Or can't you?"

Kyle flushed and turned away. "I… well, I …. I… um…"

Asajj rolled her eyes. "Oh for pity's sake… you can't break a few bars? What are you guys running here? A camp of Younglings?" She immediately regretted her words when Obi-wan's own playful gaze instantly transformed into one of rebuke.

"Asajj, that was uncalled for," he said quietly.

Kyle's eyes were flashing as he walked over to stand directly in front of her on the other side of the bars. "And who are you to say such a thing?"

"Easy, Kyle." Luke's voice finally drifted into the fray as he showed himself. "They are friends, not enemies."

"I could care less with the way they're behaving," Kyle grit out.

"The way _we're _behaving? What about you!" Asajj argued, pointing a finger at him.

"You'll have to excuse my dear lady's manners; she's not quite herself," Obi-wan's calmly butt in from his place on the floor. He was giving Asajj a stern glare that instantly made her feel like she was twelve all over again.

Luke nodded in Obi-wan's direction. "No worries. I don't think any of us are quite ourselves today. I'm Luke, by the way, though you already know that."

"Obi-wan Kenobi."

Luke seemed a little surprised, but only for a moment before his gaze sharpened. "Really. Obi-wan Kenobi died twenty years ago on Mustafar. Vader killed him. Stop lying to us."

Asajj could feel the small waves of frustration leaking from Obi-wan, but as always, he remained as calm as ever. "I did not die. I merely disappeared. There is a big difference between the two."

Kyle clearly didn't believe him, but Luke looked a little hopeful. "Then why didn't Vader kill you?" Luke asked. "It doesn't make sense that he would hunt down every living Jedi that's left, but leave you alive."

"It's… complicated."

Luke crossed his arms. "Care to explain?"

And Obi-wan suddenly looked very, very stubborn. "No."

Asajj mentally groaned. If Luke was anything like his father, then this could turn into a rather long argument.

"Why not?"

Obi-wan sighed. "I will… later, but I can't right now. Too many old memories are involved."

"Then tell me how I am supposed to believe you. There is no proof of Kenobi's existence. Anywhere. If there was, we would know about it, as would Vader."

"Must there always be proof?" Obi-wan muttered, almost too soft for anyone to hear. Then he cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Very well. You told me earlier that you had read records of the Clone Wars. Ask me a question. Any question. I'll answer it."

Luke thought for a moment before nodding. "Okay… who was your padawan, if in fact you are who you say you are?"

Obi-wan stared at the young man. Hard. Something didn't add up. "His name was Anakin…"

"Last name?"

"Skywalker."

Luke nodded. "Right. I'm distantly related to him, according to the records of my lineage. But everyone who's even remotely familiar with the Clone Wars would know that. Tell me how he died."

Died. Since when had Anakin died? Obi-wan's mind was spinning and he could only come up with one reasonable answer. Vader had somehow changed the records before the rebels had gotten a hold of them. But that also meant that he had changed the record of Luke's lineage, which meant that he had somehow found out that Luke was his son… which wasn't good.

At all.

He felt Asajj's gaze and snuck a brief glimpse at her face. She was obviously struggling to hide her own shock as well.

"Well? Does it take this long to come up with the truth? Tell me how he died," Luke repeated.

And Obi-wan did the only thing he could do. He blinked, gave Luke a small, sad smile, and told him the truth. "You must be mistaken. Anakin never died."

And Anakin's temper finally showed itself through his son. "So, Kyle was right," he bit out. "You _are_ an imposter!"

"Tell me how he died, then," Obi-wan said, voice suddenly rising. "As his master, I believe I would know if my former padawan had died!"

"Former padawan?" Luke stated. "You really are delusional. Anakin died before becoming a knight! Count Dooku killed him on Geonosis!"

Obi-wan slowly stood up and walked over until he was barely a foot away from the younger man. "Son, if you are going to speak of Geonosis, make sure that what you say is accurate, because I will _not_ have people spreading false rumors about a battle that took the lives of far too many Jedi to count. It is a number high enough that I care not to remember it."

His voice had grown clipped, cool, and hard, with an edge to it that could have cut through the very Force itself. Asajj shivered. Luke flinched. Kyle wisely chose to take a step back, not wanting any part of it.

When Obi-wan continued, the tone hadn't gotten any warmer. If anything, it had grown even icier. "Allow me to explain. My padawan and I pursued Count Dooku when he fled like the coward he was. I say 'was', because Dooku is, in fact, dead. Anakin killed him, contrary to what you have read. When we caught up to him, my padawan foolishly charged ahead and was struck by force-lightning from the Sith's hand. I attempted to defeat him, but ended up in the dirt on my back with a cut on my arm and one on my thigh. Then he fought Anakin and proceeded to cut off his arm. We survived that encounter only because Master Yoda showed up to scare the Sith away." He paused and took a steady breath. "Anakin never died. The records are false."

Luke opened and closed his mouth a few times before gaining the courage to speak. "Then where is he? You guys can't possibly be _that_ angry at each other!"

Obi-wan laughed bitterly. "Angry? No. It's worse than that."

"Worse…"

Obi-wan reached through the bars and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the prosthetic. "Apparently, my former padawan thought it would be amusing to give us matching appendages, so he decided to chop off my arm. _This_ is what happened on Mustafar. I am _not _dead,I was _not_ killed, and Anakin is most definitely still _alive_. And what's worse! He's managed to transform into possibly the darkest, vilest, most tormented _thing_ to ever exist! Yes, it's hard to believe and yes, it seems impossible, but yes, it is the truth!"

There was a stunned moment of silence at the elder man's outburst. Asajj was positively stricken. This was proof that bottling up all of the pain he had endured over the years had been torturous on the inside. Obi-wan Kenobi, possibly the noblest man she had ever met, had just reduced himself to the standard of a fifteen-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. And he was taking out all of his pent-up anger on a young man who knew nothing of the past he had been forced to live. "Obi-wan…" she started, gently touching his arm.

But he jerked it back.

He jerked it back and turned those awful, tear-laden eyes onto her. "Don't start," he snapped. "You have no business telling me how I _should_ feel when you clearly don't understand how I _do _feel."

And that hurt. It _hurt_. She froze, her own arm still raised where it had reached to gently grasp his wrist. She tried to believe that it was only his temper speaking and it wasn't really him that had just said that, but she knew better. He had meant it. He was in pain, yes, and he was going through a very difficult time, but that was no excuse to disregard words plainly spoken. He had meant it.

She couldn't reply. Her arm slowly lowered and she looked away, suddenly feeling as though the fragile friendship that they had built up had somehow been shattered into a million pieces.

Luke was angrily glaring at him, face turning a light shade of crimson. "Listen, pal. You may be mad at the world, but that's no way to talk to a lady."

The first tears began to fall and they trickled into his beard. It looked more gray than copper right now. Obi-wan clenched his jaw and swallowed. "You don't understand –"

Luke reached forward, grabbed a fistful of Obi-wan's tunic and yanked the older man hard into the bars. "I may not know a whole lot about your life, but you can't just come into my camp and unleash your anger on anyone who's close enough to hit!"

Asajj dared a glimpse back at Obi-wan and suddenly felt a little nervous. "Luke…"

"Let go of me," Obi-wan quietly stated, his voice dropping into that lethal calm.

"No! I won't! Because somebody has to – " Luke grunted as an invisible wave suddenly slammed into his gut. He jerked back into the cell behind them and hit the concrete wall just hard enough to knock some sense into him.

Even when Obi-wan was barely keeping himself controlled, he had sense left to hold back just enough to not hurt anyone. Before Asajj could stop him, Obi-wan had unleashed another wave, this one a bit more powerful than the first. The bars trembled and cracked. Obi-wan only had to reach forward and yank, and a few of the bars gave way. He stepped through the opening. Without speaking another word, without even one last glance, he walked down the hall towards the exit and left the small building.

Luke quickly recovered and raced to go after him, but Asajj reached out and yanked him back. "Luke, that would not be smart," she quietly warned, though her voice was trembling a little from unshed tears.

"He can't just –"

"Luke." She drilled her gaze into the flashing blue eyes. "You don't understand."

"Maybe not, but –"

"You _really_ don't understand. Just let him be," she softly advised before letting a few of her own tears fall.

Luke seemed to finally get it and calmed down a little. Then he only gave her a stiff nod and headed for the exit. Kyle silently followed, still struck dumb from what had just occurred. Asajj somehow knew that they would leave poor Obi-wan alone.

She slumped down against a wall and closed her eyes. Her shoulders shook as she cried. She supposed he wouldn't have lashed out at her like that if they really weren't friends. Their friendship would last. That had been her initial worry, but it wasn't what caused the tears to fall now.

Compassion was a strange emotion, one that she wasn't familiar with, and at first she didn't recognize it. Eventually, though, she realized that compassion was what was causing her tears. She felt sorry for him, and she even felt a little guilty.

Because even as he was fixing her piece by piece, he was tearing himself up in the process.

She let out a shaky breath. Eyes still closed, her mind drifted back to her dream. It helped to ease the tears, because the eyes staring back at her weren't ones filled with pain, grief, and despair. They weren't dull and gray, having seen too much death for one lifetime. They weren't accusing or angry.

They were selfless. Blue, green, and alive. They were hopeful. They were what Obi-wan used to be.

And what he still could be.

With help.

She opened her eyes and slowly stood up. It was time that she helped him. _Really_ helped him. He had given too much of himself to other people and she figured it was about time that other people started giving back. Starting with her.

* * *

_Please leave a review. I would really, really, really appreciate it! :) Thanks again, to everyone who has been reading and reviewing._

_"If we open a quarrel between past and present, we shall find that we have lost the future." ~ Winston Churchill_


	11. To Understand

_Here's the next chapter. I'm trying to update every few days now so you guys won't have to wait as long anymore. Thanks to those who have given such encouraging reviews and I hope you continue to enjoy the story! :)_

* * *

The clearing wasn't a big one. It was barely twenty feet across and completely shaded from the sun by the thick vegetation surrounding it. The trees themselves seemed to be in a dampened mood, as they were visibly drooping and looked slightly wilted. There was a stale, damp odor in the air and the cold was just enough to rattle the bones.

In the middle was a small formation of boulders that reached maybe five feet high. And sitting on top of them was the source of all of the sullen sadness hanging in the air. Obi-wan sat with his head in one hand, hunched over and looking completely miserable. His face was still wet, either from the tears or the humidity that blanketed the area.

Asajj had followed his Force signature careful to give him plenty of room so that he didn't feel intruded upon. What surprised her when she finally got close enough to see him was that Luke had already found him and was standing just outside the clearing, hands stuffed in his pockets, posture slack. He had settled down from the earlier confrontation and now looked more lost than angry. He didn't look over as Asajj walked up to stand beside him. "What's wrong with him? What happened between him and Anakin?"

Asajj realized that Luke had yet to make the connection between Anakin and Vader, even though Obi-wan had told him the truth, at least in so many words. She felt torn for only a moment before she answered. "He already told you."

Luke snorted softly. "Physically speaking, yes, but not what actually caused them to fight like that. I thought he fought Vader on Mustafar, not Anakin."

"Yes," Asajj whispered. It wasn't her place to correct his assumption.

Luke glanced at her thoughtfully before turning to once more stare at the man in the clearing. "I don't know what to do."

Asajj swallowed, feeling another rush of tears trying to breach the surface. Luke sounded like a lost child that didn't know what he had done wrong, but was still being punished for it anyway. In all honesty, she didn't know what to do either. She only knew that something had to be done, and she was the only one that would be able to do it. "I know," she muttered before taking a hesitant step forward. "I'll try and talk to him." Luke silently nodded and then turned to walk back to the base.

She had only taken one step into the clearing when Obi-wan spoke. He didn't move or open his eyes. "Please leave." His voice was still tight with barely-contained emotion. At least he wasn't exploding anymore.

She stopped walking, but didn't turn back. "No."

"Asajj…"

"No. You've wallowed alone in self-pity for too long. I've come to wallow with you."

It was barely noticeable, but his mouth quirked a little. Unfortunately, she couldn't interpret it as a smile since he had subconsciously begun to massage his temples as well. Anyone who knew Obi-wan at all knew that _that_ was anything but good.

"I'm afraid 'wallow' is a bit of an understatement," he stated. There was a long pause in which neither of them spoke, but plenty of words passed between them. This moment had been a long time in coming, but now that they had reached it, neither was willing to let go. Obi-wan shifted until he was looking at her. The look in his eyes was too much for her to bear. The tears started falling and they wouldn't stop.

"Asajj, I'm not wallowing…" He swallowed and turned away, but was unsuccessful in holding back his own tears. When he looked at her again… she had never seen such guilt before. The next two words got her feet moving again.

"I'm drowning."

She started towards him. Obi-wan was not one who would just come out and ask for help, but those two words were pretty close. They were a broken cry from a tormented soul that was teetering on the edge. He needed someone to pull him back; otherwise, he wouldn't be teetering anymore. He would be falling.

When she reached the rocks it took her a fraction of a second to decide to join him at the top. She sat by him silently, not offering any words just yet. She had a feeling that people like Obi-wan paid more attention to actions rather than words. There was a little space between them, and she was careful not to touch him, remembering quite clearly what had happened the last time.

He didn't say anything for a short time. Only a muted, shaky, sob would escape him every now and then. When he finally did speak, he said the last thing Asajj expected, yet it was so utterly _Obi-wan_ that she couldn't help but smile a little. "I apologize for lashing out at you," he said, voice quiet and hoarse.

Did this man ever stop thinking about everyone else? Would he ever realize that too much selflessness could actually be damaging? Asajj didn't think so. It was just who he was.

She gave him a small, encouraging smile and then looked away. "Obi-wan, you don't need to apologize. I've been a little too pushy over the last few weeks, and I'm afraid I wouldn't have stopped if you hadn't said anything."

He reached up to wipe his face with the sleeve of his robe. "I'm not apologizing for what I said," he clarified. "I'm apologizing for _how_ it was said. It was harsh, rude, and it hurt you. For that I am sorry."

So he _had_ meant it. He just hadn't meant to say it quite like _that_.

"_You have no business telling me how I _should_ feel when you clearly don't understand how I _do_ feel."_

Asajj shook the words from her mind. Then she smiled. How could he have possibly said it any differently? When she looked at him again, he was staring hard at the ground, his jaw clenched. "Yes, it was rude and it hurt very much," she agreed. "But you know as well as I do that I probably wouldn't have reacted to anything less. Sometimes, something needs to hurt for it to get your attention."

He closed his eyes. "Yes… but how much?"

And suddenly he wasn't referring to their previous conversation. It was Anakin now. The smile faded from Asajj's face and she turned away once more. There was nothing to say, because she couldn't possibly begin to understand. It frustrated her. She wanted so desperately to be able to talk with him on an understanding level, but it just wasn't possible. So she settled for something else. "Talk to me. Tell me about Anakin," she said.

Obi-wan looked at her. "What is there to tell? You've heard the stories and I've told you enough for you to know who he was. There's nothing more for me to tell you."

"There is plenty," Asajj snapped. She wouldn't be fooled by his sly words. Not today. Because today was the day he was going to spill everything. Not caring if he reacted or not, she poked a sharp nail into his arm. He flinched and glared at her, the anger beginning to rise once more. "Yes, I've heard stories. But stories are empty as far as I'm concerned. I want to know the kind of person he was. You don't need to tell me about the last year you two were friends. I've heard enough and seen enough of the bad stuff. Tell me something I don't know. Anything," she finished, daring to hold his gaze. A lesser person would have backed down by now.

He was the first to look away. "I need to be alone…"

Her hands curled into fists, but she held them close. She wanted so badly just to smack some sense into him, but that would have to be the last option. "Consider me your personal shadow," she bit out. "I'm not leaving."

In a swift, abrupt motion Obi-wan was on his feet and descending to the damp ground below. His feet touched down and he began to walk away, until Asajj grabbed onto his shoulder and jerked him around so fast that he almost lost his balance. She jerked a finger back at the rocks. "Sit down and start talking, Obi-wan."

He squared his shoulders a little and stared defiantly into her steely eyes. "Now is not the time –"

"And there never will be a time, will there?" she spat into his face. "Obi-wan, so help me, if you don't sit back down I'll –"

"What?" Obi-wan suddenly interrupted. "You'll what? Beat it out of me? Find a lightsaber and cut every last memory out of me? If I remember correctly, that didn't work too well the last time you tried it! Maybe you should go find one of those lovely Sith masks and try that again! At least that one got a reaction out of me!"

Now that was just plain dirty, rotten, and _low._ She did hit him for that one. A hard right across the jaw sent him stumbling backwards and a swift follow-up snapped his head back and sent him to the ground. She let him lie there and gather his senses back, if he still had any. "That was completely uncalled for," she bit out, feeling the familiar rush of anger gather inside of her. "I'll let it go this time just because you're in a world of hurt right now and aren't quite yourself. But if you bring that up one more time, I might just skewer you where you stand."

Obi-wan made no move to get up, but she did see his eyes dull a little. His face visibly fell. Then he stood up, ignoring the blood that was trickling from his split lip, and walked past her to once again take a seat on the rocks. She followed him back and glared at him, impatiently waiting for him to start talking.

Finally, he ran a hand through his shaggy hair and blew out a long breath. "Curse this blasted world. Will things ever be the way they were?"

She didn't reply.

Obi-wan sighed and leaned back. His eyes drifted towards the sky where the sun was just starting to peek through the gray clouds that had been present all day. And, wonder of wonders, he actually smiled a little. "Thank the Force, you're here, Asajj. You and those painful fists of yours."

Neither of them actually laughed, but the tension between them eased up a bit.

"Well?" she prompted, still irritated, but willing to hold back the biting comments swirling around in her head.

Obi-wan shifted slightly, getting comfortable. "He was nine when I first met him."

That was one thing he hadn't told her before. So that was the first problem…

"He wasn't the problem," Obi-wan continued, as if he had just read her mind. "The problem was everyone else." And he began to talk. Actually _talk._ He spoke of Anakin's padawan years with more emotion than he had ever displayed. He didn't just list off certain events; he spoke of them in vast detail and with far more depth than he had shared with her before. He wove a tale of a boy that was far more human than any Jedi of his day.

Every Jedi except for one. Asajj could tell just by the way Obi-wan's eyes were starting to light up again that he had loved Anakin like a son. The gray finally receded to be replaced by that crystal blue that glowed and glinted with every word spoken. His voice filled with pride when he spoke of Anakin's accomplishments and he chuckled when he recalled many of the younger man's foolish antics in a starfighter. He turned serious when he spoke of their brotherly relationship with each other, and eventually, his voice faded back into grief as he spoke of their last few years together.

Anakin had brought out the human side in Obi-wan. He had subtly taught his mentor how to love, how to play, and how to recklessly throw caution to the wind and get the most out of life. Obi-wan was the man he was today because of Anakin, and Asajj just now realized that.

By the end, Obi-wan was once again dangerously close to tears, but his anger was no longer an issue. "Do you understand now?" he asked her, eyes almost pleading her for a 'yes'. "Do you understand why I keep all of this inside?"

She wanted to say yes, but she would be lying. "No, I don't," she answered. "Doesn't it help to talk about it?"

"It does," he agreed, trying once again to offer a small smile. "And I feel I should thank you for your stubborn persistence."

"You're welcome," she said with a smile of her own.

"But it hurts," he continued. "Far too much. Every time I talk about him, or even think about him, I'm reminded of how much I've lost."

She nodded and then reached out to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Maybe instead it should remind you of what you can still get back," she argued in a gentle voice.

He looked away. "You hope for too much."

"Only because you refuse to hope at all."

The words hung in the air like the honest truth that they were. "He's gone, Asajj. He's too far gone for me to reach anymore." He sounded so broken.

"If you believe that, then you're a fool. I was a Sith for the better portion of my life, but here I am. I'm not perfect, I'm not completely light, but I'm getting better. And Obi-wan, of all the stubborn, hard-headed Jedi out there, you're the one who somehow gets people to see the better side of life. You gave me hope. You give other people hope. Why can't you keep some of that hope for yourself?" she asked.

"Why should I believe in something that won't happen?" he countered, voice rising a little.

"Because you can." Her voice was firm and indisputable. "And because you should. You know what's impossible? The redemption of a Sith. What were the chances? Next to nothing, but you never stopped believing in me. And because of that, I'm no longer dark. Anakin can be redeemed, Obi-wan. It just takes a little faith."

"Sith can only be redeemed if they want to be redeemed, if they are willing to accept help," Obi-wan argued. "Anakin willingly chose the path of the Sith. It's what he wanted. He doesn't want to come back."

"Yes he does." Her voice had grown colder and quieter.

Obi-wan noticed, but only turned to glare at her. "And how would you know?"

She scooted a little closer to him and got right into his face. "Because this is the one part of this conversation where I understand and you don't. You haven't felt the dark side tugging on your soul for the majority of your life. You don't know what it's like. You can't begin to comprehend the struggle that goes on between your heart and that little voice in your head that's telling you that this is the way to power. This is the way to glory. And eventually, you conclude that you no longer have a heart, because that little voice has evolved into an agonizingly loud scream that sets every nerve in your body on fire. You can no longer feel your own heartbeat." She paused, taking no satisfaction from the pity that was beginning to show on his face. There was no part of this that was even remotely satisfying.

"But the real reason why your nerves are burning is because some small recess of your mind and spirit is still resisting that voice in your head. You still know it's wrong. You're looking for an escape, but there is no escape, because sadly enough, there isn't a light reaching for you. In society's eyes, in the _Jedi's_ eyes, you're too far gone for rescuing. They shun you and leave you to your suffering. So, finally, you do find an escape. Escape through submission. You embrace the voice until it has become your own. And you thrive in it, because there's no one to tell you otherwise." Her voice faded with the last few words and she stared blankly at the trees when she was finished. She felt Obi-wan's eyes on her, but refused to look over at him.

"Can you forgive me?"

His quiet words broke through her suddenly clouded mind. She blinked. "Forgive you?"

"For foolishly believing that I'm the only one who suffers in this world."

She shook her head and started to protest before he stopped her with a gentle grip on her hand. "Asajj, please. Just do it."

She slowly nodded. "I forgive you," she whispered.

"Thank you." Then he sucked in a quick, shuddery breath. "I just don't know if it's too late, Asajj. What if he's already been sucked in too far? What if he's… what if…." He trailed off and just sat there.

"He's a fighter, Obi-wan. No one wants to embrace the dark side. Not even Sith. The difference between those who are saved and those who aren't is that the lucky few had someone who cared deeply enough to reach out a hand. You did it for me. Surely you can do it for the man you call your brother."

He hesitated before looking at her with that pleading tint in his eyes again. "Will you help me?"

She smirked at him, attempting to lighten the mood. "I thought I already was."

Then he smiled. Actually, he grinned. "Just making sure," he said. Then he stood and hopped lightly to the ground. There was still a lot of grief there, lingering around his Force signature, but a few of the scattered pieces had been put back into place. He wasn't fully whole again, but he wasn't completely broken either. He started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" she called after him.

"I'm hungry."

She rolled her eyes and followed after him. "Just don't eat any more of that dried meat stuff you had on that planet we were on before we came here. I don't know if I'll survive another encounter with that stuff."

He laughed and waited for her to catch up with him. "I suppose I could find something more appealing considering you just dragged me out of my well of self-pity."

"Good, because I might accidentally throttle you if you eat that stuff again."

"Well I'd rather not have 'Accidentally killed by a lady' written on my tombstone. That would just be downright insulting." He laughed and ducked the loose branch aimed for his head.

Asajj attempted to look annoyed, but she couldn't hold back the laughter very long. "I have to agree. That would be a lousy end to the great Obi-wan Kenobi."

"Lousy indeed."

The sun was just beginning to set in the distance, transforming the sky from dull gray to vibrant orange and pink. Obi-wan was gaping at the sight in childlike wonder, as if he hadn't seen a sunset in years. The sight warmed her to the core and she couldn't help but smile. Not at the sunset, but at the beauty reflected in his eyes.

The blue-green orbs that had been dead for so many years were once more hopeful and alive.

One broken piece at a time, they were going to fix this world.

One broken piece at a time.

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_Well? Any thoughts? Feel free to review! :)_

_"Lord save us all from a hope tree that has lost the faculty of putting out blossoms." ~ Mark Twain_


	12. REVENGE

Yay, a quick update! I'm trying guys, I really am. We'll see how long the quick updates last... enjoy! :)

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I noticed it the other day. It was barely a spark in the back of my mind at first.

_It was during a meeting with Admiral Piett, the man who received the unfortunate duty to serve as Sidious' highest ranking official. He should consider himself lucky that he no longer serves that dreadful man, but all he shows is indifference towards me. Every so often I feel the urge to knock some sense into him, but I will not stoop to my former master's level._

_I am not Sidious._

_I am more powerful than he ever was, because I have something he never had. Respect. Not respect out of fear, but simply respect. I will not harm my men without reason and they know that._

_Admiral Piett, however, seems to be the exception. He neither fears, nor respects. I hardly think he feels any emotion at all. He just sits there, listening to me with the same bored expression he always wears, seemingly oblivious, yet fully aware of everything. He is much too intelligent for his own good._

_And his smugness is reason for punishment, which I was about to deal out._

_When I felt it._

_I dismissed it as an insignificant hum at first, for the Force barely rippled at the interruption. Those sorts of intrusions occur almost every minute when mild Force-sensitives subconsciously touch the Force without meaning to, so I had no reason to believe that this one was any different._

_But then I felt it again. Years of practice had honed my instincts to an unattainable level, and at that moment, I knew that it was no mere coincidence._

_I grudgingly dismissed Piett with a flippant wave of my hand, allowing some of my irritation to show through so that he knew he was on a tight leash. He could be dealt with later._

_This other matter could not._

_The small spark flashed every so often, but it was somewhat muted. This alone was enough to prove that this was no ordinary Force-sensitive. This was someone who clearly understood the power they possessed. A random spark was no concern at all, but a muted spark was curious indeed, especially one that shone so poignantly in my Force-perception. _

_A vague sense of familiarity washed over me, and my stomach clenched in nervous anticipation. This was no stranger._

_The feeling faded almost as soon as it came. It couldn't be him. He was too careful for such an amateurish slip-up. And to increase my doubt, this pulse in the Force was clearly one of anger. Controlled anger, barely, but still anger._

_He did not know anger. He did not feel it. He did not encourage it. He never used it. It was not him. It couldn't be. I knew him too well to make a connection like that._

_But at the same time, the jagged pieces of my heart… no, I did not have one of those… of my mind… yes, I still had some control there… told me that it was. It was him. I could not ignore such a rare feeling. Sith did not often get feelings like that._

_The spark, HIS spark, disappeared to be replaced by emptiness once more. A small part of me was actually disappointed, and it confused me. Why should I feel disappointment that he was gone? He ruined my life!_

_The disappointment is still there, and growing. Soon it turns into something else, something I haven't felt in many years._

_Yearning._

_The last time I yearned for something was when I yearned for one of Padme's gentle hugs or passionate kisses. Something to remind me that I was loved. Those were things I would never feel again, because my beautiful wife was dead._

_This, however, was different. This was hopeful. This was something that was still within reach._

_Barely._

_For behind the hate that was beginning to rise, behind the orders that I was soon dishing out to my men, behind the rage-filled urge to find this man and kill him, was a blurry image in the deepest recesses of my mind. It surfaced every now and then, as if he were gently trying to remind me._

_I was back on Mustafar, standing over him glaring into his tear-ridden, dull, gray eyes. I would turn away from him and start walking, only to hear his screams._

_They are what haunt my dreams today. Screams of forgiveness, something completely unattainable for a Sith of my caliber._

_But that doesn't mean I can't yearn for it._

_The hate is overwhelming, and I'm already growing impatient. He will be hard to find, and I will enjoy the challenge as much as my men will fear it._

_But the yearning is still there, as are his forgiving screams. There's just one mistake that he made that is allowing the hate to overrule the yearning._

_He was the reason Padme died. _

_And for that, he must suffer the same fate as my beloved wife._

The yearning can wait, because revenge will be much sweeter.

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Yeah, I know it's a short chapter, but that would be great if you would leave a review. Even just a few words is fine. Thanks! :)

**"Never does the human soul appear so strong as when it foregoes revenge and dares to forgive an injury." ~ Edwin Hubbel Chapin**

Not sure this quote really went with the chapter, but I stuck it in here anyways...


	13. A Few Days Later

_I apologize for such a long, long, long, long... yeah, excruciatingly long wait on this. I'm afraid I haven't been in the right mood lately for this story, but I finally decided to continue with it! :) Anyways, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!_

_Please read the little note at the bottom as well. Thanks!_

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"Blasted, kriffin' piece of junk…"

Kyle halted his stride to peer at the two feet protruding from beneath one of the X-wing fighters. Dusty, brown, knee-high boots covered them, but the rest of the man could not be seen. Feet did not lend much to the imagination, but Kyle presumed from that string of words that the man was a tad bit frustrated. He walked closer, failing to keep a smirk from emerging.

"Need some help there?"

The clanking from beneath the ship, along with the muttered curses paused before resuming once more. "Thank you, but no. I just have to… OUCH!" A few sparks flew and the boots twitched a little. A calloused hand appeared to grab the side of the fighter and pretty soon the disheveled face of Obi-wan Kenobi appeared. Kyle felt the sudden urge to laugh, but the irritated glance he received made him swallow it down.

"Um… are you sure you wouldn't like some help? I might be able to –"

He barely caught the crowbar Kenobi tossed at him. "Feel free. There's a sharp piece of something stuck up underneath that's preventing the cargo latch from opening. Watch out for sparks." The older man stood up and dusted himself off, running a hand through his hair as he did so. A few black marks stood out near the collar of his tunic where the sparks had hit him.

"Are you sure you're – "

"I'm fine," Kenobi bit out. The man seemed on edge for some reason, though Kyle could wager a decent guess as to why.

It had been almost a week since he and that other lady had arrived, and though Luke had allowed the lady to help out with some new attack schemes, he had bluntly told Obi-wan to take some time to fix whatever was bugging him. Needless to say, Kenobi hadn't liked that one bit.

A few protests later, and Luke had agreed to let him help make repairs to some of their fighters, but that was the extent of it. The former Jedi had given Luke one heck of a look, but then he had solemnly left to start working.

And work he did.

Kyle hadn't seen anyone as focused as this man was. Repairs were moving along rather quickly.

To the starfighters at least.

Repairs to Kenobi's jumbled mind on the other hand… anyone could see that that was moving at less than a snail's pace. Everyone in camp had their own version of the talk between Kenobi and Ventress, but they all boiled down to one thing: that nasty bruise hadn't come from harsh words. The lady had decked him, and decked him hard.

The more Kyle got to know him, though, the more he realized that physically knocking some sense into the man was probably the only way to break through that stubborn barrier. Engaging in a battle of wits with the guy was hopeless.

Now, a few days after "the talk", Obi-wan had settled down a little, but progress was slow. He was definitely of the "closed-off" type and wouldn't talk about himself with anyone other than Ventress. Nevertheless, Kyle tried at least twice a day to get the guy to open up. He was determined to press him hard this time.

"I don't know why you say that. Anyone could tell that you're definitely not fine." He crossed his arms, staring the shorter man down. At least until those ice-blue eyes locked onto his. Then he uncrossed his arms and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look… don't take this the wrong way, but you're not exactly the most… um… approachable guy."

Obi-wan sighed and began to walk away. "So I've been told. More than a few times today, actually. It seems everyone is getting rather impatient with me."

Kyle followed, forgetting about the starfighter for the moment. "If you can see that, then why don't you tell us what's going on? It's hard to trust a guy when you know nothing about him."

"I believe I mentioned to you that I'm not asking for your trust," Kenobi tiredly pointed out. Then he stopped and turned to face Kyle. "But if you're so eager to give it to me anyway, then trust me on this: what happened in my past is neither heroic nor worthy of the reputation the Jedi have acquired. It is dark and it hurts, and at the moment, it is not something I want to talk about. You will hear the details in due time, but do not expect it to be soon."

Kyle watched him walk away and then stared at the crowbar he held in his hand. He sighed and returned to the waiting starfighter. So much for getting some answers.

Kenobi was a walking enigma.

~~OOO~~

"Please enlighten me as to what the advantage is in attacking this Death Star thing." Her voice cut with bitter sarcasm through the shouting. Asajj was about ready to just give up, having been in a heated debate over the target for over an hour.

Luke, despite having warmed up to her and Obi-wan over the last couple days, gave her a frustrated glare and gestured angrily. "I told you already. There _is_ no advantage! But if the Death Star reaches completion, then it will have the ability to destroy entire planets! A weapon of that size could ruin any chance we have of defeating the Empire."

"Your chances were never big to begin with…" she muttered. A few more angry glances were sent her way and she rolled her eyes. "Okay, sorry. But seriously, though. Let's look at this realistically. You have, what, maybe thirty fully-functional starfighters right now? This so-called Death Star is the size of a kriffin' moon and you don't expect it to be guarded by a fleet, maybe two?"

"We've already taken out one fleet," a voice chimed in.

She glanced at the speaker, a young man about Luke's age. "Ah yes, your last attack. You were lucky you didn't have any serious damage. And you're lucky Vader wasn't there, or you would've been torn to shreds. The chances of success on a target of this magnitude are slim to none. You have to see that!"

Even though there were only six of them crowded around the small table, it felt like a million shouts assaulting her at once. Protests and retorts flew at her relentlessly, and she angrily argued back. "You do realize that shouting at each other like a bunch of younglings is not going to get you anywhere, right?"

The voice was quiet, yet patronizing and every head turned in annoyance to see who had spoken. Even Asajj was a bit peeved at the interruption.

Obi-wan was leaning against the door frame, one eyebrow raised, arms crossed. He looked everything the respected Jedi master, aside from the fact that his scruffy hair was sticking up and his dusty tunic was speckled with black burn marks. Only _he_ could command such attention while looking like a desert dweller that had just survived a mild explosion.

"I told you that you were not to take part in this part of the operation," Luke all but snapped.

_Brat_, Asajj muttered inwardly. She was surprised to see Obi-wan's eyes shift to her with a glint of amusement.

She had to excuse the youth, she supposed. Everyone was a little uptight right now.

"I am not here to offer my advice, though it is obvious that you need it." Before Luke could say anything, Obi-wan continued. "I merely wanted to inform you that the starfighters are all fixed with the exception of two. Their foils were too damaged to function properly if repaired."

One of the other men… Wes was it?... turned to Asajj and gestured. "See, we're practically back to full strength. That increases the odds."

"Yeah, to maybe one in a million rather than one in a billion," she retorted.

"I'd say that's a decent improvement," another man remarked.

And they were off again, shouting and berating each other. An exasperated sigh sounded from the doorway. "Asajj, could I have a word?"

She added a few more words and then, contrary to the situation, politely excused herself. Once they had navigated the halls of the small, one-level facility and emerged outside, she breathed in deeply, thankful for some fresh air. "They're reckless and foolhardy, Obi-wan," she finally said.

Surprisingly, he let out a soft chuckle as they continued to walk. "Youthful enthusiasm, I suppose. We both had it at one point."

"I guess you're right," she grudgingly admitted. "But this time it's going to get everyone killed."

"I happen to agree with them."

Asajj stopped and stared at him. "Excuse me? Did I just hear you correctly?"

"I believe so."

"Obi-wan, that Death Star is much too large to attack with a force as small as the one we have here. I honestly can't believe that you of all people would even entertain the possibility! You're supposed to be a tactical genius! Isn't that what you were known for back in the day?"

He got that far off look in his eyes again that told her yet another memory had forced its way into his mind. "I was no genius, Asajj. I was just able to take advantage of the opportunities I was given. That's all."

She gave him a pained look, one that said just what she thought of this "opportunity." "But this is different. It's on a larger scale than any battle you took part in during the Clone Wars. What could possibly make it work?"

"Haven't you felt it? The Force is restless, Asajj. Every time I try to meditate I have to stop, because it's too chaotic." He raised a hand to rub his temples.

She watched him for a moment, considering his words. A slight touch of the Force was all she needed to confirm what he'd said. Something was wrong. "What's that have to do with the Death Star?" She was no longer annoyed, but curious.

"I made a mistake."

A sudden chill caused her to shiver. Those were bad words for such a careful man to say. "What did you do?" She grew silent, nervously waiting for his answer.

He had a troubled look on his face, one that some might mistake for anger. But he didn't know anger… or was that in the past as well? The closer she looked, the more nervous she grew. "Obi-wan?" she pressed.

He finally looked right at her. "I slipped up. I let my emotions get the best of me for a short time, and my signature wasn't muted… Asajj, he's searching for me. I can feel it."

There was no mistaking who _he_ was. Asajj bowed her head and stopped walking. She lowered herself to the packed ground beneath her feet. Obi-wan sat down across from her, studying her face. "I'm sorry," he offered, though the edge in his voice didn't comfort her in any way, shape, or form.

"How long?" she demanded.

"I'm not certain. It will take him a while to actually locate me, but even then we may only have a week or two at best. Anakin is relentless when he wants to be." The last was almost said with a bit of affection, but it was overrun with worry.

She nodded. "So, the Death Star?"

His face hardened and his eyes turned blank, all emotion disappearing. Asajj could practically see the strategies forming in his mind, each plan precisely plotted out in intricate detail, multiple steps ahead of the enemy. "Yes. All of his focus will be on me, which means that he will put most of his men to use in the search. Work on the Death Star will temporarily be suspended, if not permanently."

"Permanently?"

I slight warming of his eyes, but nothing else. "He may be a Sith, Asajj, but Anakin has more respect for life than you think. I wouldn't be surprised if the Death Star never reaches completion."

"But Sidious, surely he's –"

"Dead," Obi-wan finished. "He's dead. Perhaps you've been too busy these last few days to notice. We are no longer dealing with Sidious; we are dealing with Anakin."

"Dead." She couldn't quite wrap her mind around the possibility that her old master had been killed. Not that she would ever miss him, but the power someone would have to have…

"I imagine it didn't take much." Obi-wan was playing with some grass, building a little pile of it as he ripped it out again and again. The ripping sound grew louder. "One quick slice of the lightsaber. Sidius probably didn't see it coming." More ripping. "Anakin probably smiled when he did it and laughed when the body flopped to the floor in two pieces…" The ripping stopped and Obi-wan stared at the small mound he had formed.

Asajj took a deep breath. "Obi-wan, let's not think about Anakin right now. Focus on the Death Star, okay?"

His eyes rose to meet hers in silent agreement. He picked the grass up and tossed it to the side, watching with dull interest as the blades fluttered to the ground. "Why don't you go back to Luke and talk about it. If he wants my advice, come and get me. I'll be by the X-wings." He stood up and started to leave.

"Oh, you've figured out what they're called now?" she asked with a smirk.

He didn't even look back at her, but as she started to rise, a rush of air hit her in the stomach and sent her to the ground once more. She felt his smile rather than saw it. Each time he smiled, his signature grew brighter in the Force.

~~OOO~~

"Listen, you Force-forsaken piece of crap, I'm about ready to jam some more shrapnel into you just for the heck of it and see what happens then. I wish you took a direct hit; then I wouldn't be dealing with this right now…"

Obi-wan listened, amused. Apparently, that piece of metal was in there for good. This fighter would not be carrying any cargo. "You're talking to a starfighter."

The grumbling instantly stopped. Kyle scooted out from under the ship and glared up at him.

Obi-wan raised his hands. "My apologies. Please continue."

Kyle rolled his eyes and tossed the useless crowbar to the side. "It's stuck."

"No kidding."

Another glare. "Don't you have something better to do? Like meditate or something? Isn't that what you like to do; go sit in some little clearing, soaking in the humidity and the sun while thinking about nothing?"

The former Jedi raised a brow. "Would you like to join me? You might like it."

Kyle laughed a little. He pushed himself up and brushed off the light jacket he was wearing. "I doubt that. It looks boring to me."

"You watched me?"

Kyle retrieved the crowbar and shrugged. "I was curious. I didn't watch for long. I'm not that patient."

Obi-wan nodded. "I see. I think you'll find it more interesting that it looks."

"Is that an invitation?"

"I already gave you one."

"What all does it entail?"

Obi-wan smiled. "Sitting in damp clearings, soaking in the sun and the humidity, and thinking about nothing whatsoever." He chuckled a little when Kyle rolled his eyes. "Come on. It will help you with your connection to the Force."

"Really."

"Truly. Just try it once. If you don't think it helps, feel free to never meditate again," Obi-wan compromised.

Kyle hesitated before following him into the forest.

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_Well, how was it? Please review and let me know! I'm hoping for at least five or six before I update again..._

_Please, if you have a little time (maybe ten or fifteen minutes), check out the questions at the bottom of my profile page. I'm writing a paper right now for school and I'm doing it on the fanfiction community. I would gladly appreciate it if you took the time to answer those questions as thoughtfully as you can. Just send me a private message with your answers._

_Again, I would really really appreciate it if at least a few of you guys did this for me. If not, I understand, but thank you to those that do. _

_Thanks again for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! :)_

**_" Half of the pleasure of solitude comes from having with us some friend to whom we can say how sweet solitude is" ~ William Jay_**


	14. My Little Boy

_Hey, guess what... I updated! Hard to believe, I know, but I finally got around to writing this again. This chapter took me forever and it's my longest to date (12 pages on my computer... whew!). Hopefully you'll enjoy it! You may want to skim the last chapter again just so you know where this one starts. Thanks for being so patient with me; I know it must be hard... sorry. :) Please read and review! Happy Easter!_

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Kyle followed Obi-wan for what seemed like hours, though it was probably more like forty minutes or so. Even so, that was a terribly long walk for someone who found the forest to be void of anything interesting. He cursed himself silently for skipping lunch due to being too busy. He almost didn't have the energy to keep his eyes open.

He raised his eyes from the damp ground to focus on the back of the man in front of him. "Are we almost there?"

"Not sure."

Kyle stopped and waited for Obi-wan to notice. When the former Jedi turned around, he glared. "Not sure? Do you not know where we're going?"

Obi-wan shrugged. "I never set out for a specific destination, but I'm not lost, if that's what you're asking."

"So… we're stopping only when you feel like it, is that it?" Kyle asked, irritation starting to leak into his voice.

"Perhaps we should stop when _you _feel like it," Obi-wan offered. He gestured around them. "Would you like to do it here?"

Kyle frowned. He knew when he was beat. They were currently standing in a grove of trees dripping with moisture. The ground beneath them was soggy and most likely crawling with bugs, not to mention that it smelled of rotting leaves. Not the best place to sit down and try and acquire a peaceful state of mind. "Fine," he conceded. "But we're stopping at the next clearing. And _I'm_ leading this time. No telling where we'll end up if you keep wandering around."

Obi-wan stepped to the side, a twitch of his mouth almost turning into a smile, and gestured with a hand. "Very well."

Kyle walked past him, still frowning. He muttered something under his breath, quiet enough that the old fart couldn't hear it. He liked the man well enough, but sometimes the guy could be downright infuriating.

He led them around for another twenty minutes or so before they finally found a decent-sized clearing where the sun had managed to peek through. Kyle stopped and ran a hand through his damp hair. "How about here?" He turned around to see Obi-wan standing quietly at the edge of the tree line. "Well?"

Obi-wan's eyes shifted to Kyle. "I believe I agreed to stop at the next clearing."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but you're the expert on this meditation stuff, remember? So, is this good enough, or do we have to keep going?"

This time the man did smile. A small smile, but nonetheless a smile. He walked past Kyle and took a seat right in the middle, plopping down on the wet grass without a care in the world. "It'll do fine." Obi-wan patted the ground next to him. "Take a seat."

Kyle groaned inwardly. It seemed this guy was determined to have him soaked to the bone before they returned to camp, and all for some peaceful state of mind that Kyle was pretty sure he didn't have the patience to reach. He sat down and looked at Obi-wan, waiting for instructions.

The former Jedi was seated with his legs crossed, a hand on each knee. His eyes were already closed and his face was blank and relaxed. For all appearances, he looked like a monk.

Kyle had no intention of looking that ridiculous. "Um, Obi-wan? Do I have to sit like that?"

One brow rose and gray eyes opened. "How else were you planning on sitting?"

"Well, not like that. You look all mystical, or something." Kyle shifted, attempting to sit with his legs stretched out, arms propped behind him, but that was more lying down than sitting and with how tired he was that just wasn't going to cut it. He sat back up, straightened his back, and crossed his legs. He put his hands in various positions, anywhere but his knees.

Eventually, he couldn't help it. He huffed, refusing to look at the elder man. "Fine. Just get on with it already."

Obi-wan cleared his throat, though it sounded suspiciously like a laugh that had been choked down. "Okay, now that you're settled…" Kyle glared at him. "We can begin." Obi-wan closed his eyes again. Kyle continued to stare at him.

"Close your eyes."

Kyle sighed and did as he was told. The sooner they got this over with the better.

"You know, your irritation with me really isn't going to help you much…"

Kyle opened his eyes again. "Well, what do you expect? You hardly speak to anyone and when you do, it's with a dismissive wave of your hand, and now that we have some one-on-one time, you treat me like a child. I would appreciate a little respect."

Obi-wan didn't flinch or move at all. He merely repeated his earlier statement. "Close your eyes, Kyle."

The younger man snorted and stood up. "No, I'm leaving. I knew this was a waste of time…" He started to walk away, but then stopped when he realized that Obi-wan wasn't calling him back. He turned around.

Obi-wan was still sitting in the same spot, but his eyes were open and he was staring sadly at the forest, his face expressing something that Kyle couldn't identify. Suddenly feeling a little guilty, he took a small step towards him. "Obi-wan?"

A swallow, nothing more. "You can go. I won't stop you."

He should've known. This wasn't about him getting closer to the Force, though he undoubtedly would. If it was, Obi-wan would have been trying to convince him to stay. This was something else entirely. "Why did you ask me to come?"

The guy finally looked over. "You have a strong connection to the Force, but you don't understand how to –"

"No," Kyle interrupted. "I know when I'm being lied to. Don't get me wrong; I would love to learn more about how to control the Force. Everyone does. But you didn't ask me to come so you could show me a few tricks. You need me here for something."

There was a long silence then, and Kyle knew he was right. He watched as Obi-wan looked down at his hands and clenched his jaw a few times. Then he looked back up. "Would you like to try again?" he asked.

Of course he wasn't going to get a direct answer. He wondered if this man even knew what a direct answer was. He sighed and almost turned to walk away again, but then his conscience got the better of him and he relented. He took a seat once more, copying Obi-wan's posture.

"Close your eyes."

Kyle obeyed. He waited for Obi-wan to say something more, but the only sound he heard was the slight whistling of the wind that had just begun to blow. "Now what?"

"Breathe."

"What?"

"Just breathe. Nothing else."

Kyle sighed and then grew quiet. For a while, all he heard was that stupid whistling. It drowned out the sound of his breathing and it invaded his mind, refusing to let anything else in. Blasted wind. If only the old man could somehow get it to go away. Could the Force allow someone to do something like that?

If only he was that lucky.

The wind all but screamed at him, causing stabbing pains to throb in his head. Eventually it was too much and he opened his eyes. Sweat had started to bead on his forehead and he drew his sleeve across it. He glanced at Obi-wan and noticed, with a small amount of satisfaction, that the old man seemed to be having as difficult a time as he was. Obi-wan's mouth was drawn in a thin line and his face was taut with determination. The hands on his knees had clenched to form fists.

Maybe the guy wasn't as good at this as he thought.

Kyle glanced around before closing his eyes again. He breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself down. _Come on, this can't be that hard…_ He tried picture something calm, but all that popped into his head was the forest. Trees standing ramrod straight, leaves as still as the grave, though weighed down with moisture. Mud that smelled like, well, mud.

Leaves as still as… His eyes flashed open. The grass was still, the trees were still. It wasn't windy. Not even a slight breeze.

"What the…"

"This is why I need you here."

Kyle jumped a little as he turned to look at Obi-wan. "But the wind… it was too loud… I couldn't… but now it's not here…"

"It wasn't wind," Obi-wan said. "The Force is in turmoil. It's driven by too much darkness to be still. I've been trying to meditate for the past few days, but I can't seem to find a calm center." He paused. "I was hoping that maybe if two of us…" he drifted off with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

_That_ had been the Force? That howling hurricane? Kyle shook his head. "I'm sorry, but it's too much. I can't… I'm not strong enough."

"You don't have to be; we're doing this together. This time, try to focus on me."

"On you? But how will I know what you look like? I don't even know what _I_ look like in the Force."

Obi-wan shut his eyes again, but before he did, something flashed in them. Something like shame. "Trust me, you'll know."

"You don't want my trust, remember?" Kyle retorted before following suit.

Obi-wan's quiet reply drifted over the soft gale of wind that was beginning to transform into a raging hurricane.

"I do now."

~~OOO~~

Asajj stared at the five people around the table. Four men and one woman. All younger than thirty-five. All carrying the weight of the galaxy on their shoulders. She could understand the intensity of their earlier argument now that she understood who exactly had been arguing.

They weren't experienced generals with countless battles under their belts. They weren't Jedi who had been fighting in wars for years on end. And they certainly weren't those who understood the full capacity of Vader's power and why that even mattered.

They were young, scared, but very determined men and women who just so happened to be the ones to take a stand for those who wouldn't.

And at the head was Luke, perhaps the youngest of them all, but the one saddled with the most responsibility. It seemed that all of the pressure was taking a toll on the youth, making him crabbier than usual.

However, after returning from her talk with Obi-wan they had seemed to calm down a little and were discussing the advantages and disadvantages to attacking the Death Star. She had silently taken her seat and listened, not wanting to contribute anything just yet.

But now the conversation had come full circle and they really hadn't gotten anywhere. Guilty looks were still being cast in her direction, as if they were sorry for yelling at her earlier, but still weren't willing to agree with her. She finally just sighed and leaned forward.

"Guys, listen for a second. I think we've already established the fact that there are no advantages to attacking the Death Star, so let's just put that aside and consider the disadvantages. What do we have?"

She received a few blank stares before the woman spoke up. "Well, I guess the big one is the fact that we'll most likely be outnumbered three to one at the least. This has to be a stealth attack, which makes it a bit trickier to plan."

"Not to mention the fact that it will take every available pilot we have, and if something goes wrong, we risk suffering a huge blow," one of the older men added.

Luke looked at Asajj. "What did Obi-wan say?"

Asajj raised a brow. "I thought you didn't want his advice."

Luke looked around the table at the others for a moment before swallowing and leaning forward a little. "I've been a jerk to him, and I think everyone here would agree with that. I've just been so stressed out lately with everyone looking to me for answers and when you guys showed up, I guess I finally just snapped. I didn't know what to do and I still don't." He stopped before leaning back and dropping his gaze. "I don't want to be in charge anymore."

There were stunned looks on a couple of faces, but the others were actually smiling a little. "But someone has to be in charge…" one guy sputtered. "We can't just have a bunch of people doing whatever they think is right."

"We won't," Luke said. "While I've always been the one to make the final decision, we've always generally come to the same conclusion and I don't think that will change much. We've worked well together up until now and I think we can keep doing that."

There were murmurs of agreement and murmurs of doubt, but that seemed to settle the issue anyway. "So, about this Death Star thing," Luke continued. He looked at Asajj again. "What did Obi-wan say?"

Asajj smiled. This was a Luke she could work with. "He agreed with you."

Luke blanched. "Really?"

"Really. I won't mention particulars, but he has reason to believe that Vader is occupied with another issue at the moment and won't be focused on the Death Star. He thinks that now is the perfect time to launch an attack."

"But how does he know this? Did he hear it from someone?" someone asked… Wes?

She would figure out names later. "That's not important right now. What's important is that I believe him and he's never let me down before."

"But we still don't even know if we can trust you guys. How do we know you're not leading us into a trap?" the same guy continued.

"You don't," Asajj snapped. "All you have is my word that we aren't. That can either be good enough for you or you can continue to doubt me, but as of right now, we need to come up with a plan to attack this thing. Otherwise, planets are going to start exploding."

"Fine."

"So where do we start?" the woman asked.

The same man reached down and grabbed a large, rolled-up piece of paper and spread it out on the table in front of them. Asajj blinked. "Where did you get this?"

If she wasn't mistaken, she was looking at a detailed plan of the Death Star itself.

"Wes defected," Luke explained. "He joined us about seven months ago after his home planet suffered some major casualties from the war."

She looked at the man closely, examining him through the Force. Though she felt no deception, that did nothing to subdue her rising suspicions. "How did he get something as important as this, though? Surely the Empire would be onto him by now."

"I have my ways," Wes said, matching her intense gaze with one of his own.

She stared at him for a minute longer before nodding. "Very well. So where are the weak points?" she asked, gesturing to the map.

~~OOO~~

His head was pounding, literally. It felt one of those force-suppressors had been put into his head and his brain was having an allergic reaction to it. He wanted to cry out, but he forced himself to hold it in. Instead, he settled for clenching his jaw shut, which only resulted in a toothache.

_Focus. Just focus, Kyle. You can do this… just breathe_. Breathe. Nothing else. That's what the old man had said. He tried to calm his racing pulse and took deep breaths. Okay, so that worked a little, but not much.

The Force was still beating at him, howling even louder now. What had Obi-wan said? Focus on _him_ this time?

Kyle managed to calm down a little and the Force did likewise. Now that he was somewhat used to what the Force looked like, he looked deeper. Through the chaotic storm surrounding him, he could barely see a calmer, brighter… cloud? That was the only way to describe it really, but he knew that was Obi-wan. Or his signature, at least.

Despite the fact that he was brighter than the darkness around him, Obi-wan's signature was flickering, as if it was shorting out. That couldn't be good. Kyle drew closer, still in awe of the fact that he was experiencing the Force at a higher level than he had ever done before.

Obi-wan grew brighter, if possible. He was blinding, really. A supernova in the Force. But that did nothing to ease Kyle's steadily increasing sense of unease. Something wasn't right. Even though he was reaching out, Obi-wan wasn't reaching back. Hadn't the guy said they were going to do this together? Didn't that imply both of them giving an effort?

Kyle reached out, as if he was reaching with his own hands, and hesitated. He was so close. So close to touching him. He watched for a moment, noticing for the first time why Obi-wan was flickering. Every few seconds, a thin wisp of light would drift off into the wind. Not much, but apparently it was enough.

Kyle wondered if it was hurting Obi-wan. The guy was literally breaking apart in front of him. How long had this been going on? If the guy seemed this bright right now, how bright had he been before?

Enough. This guy needed help, and Kyle wasn't going to let this all be for nothing. He reached out and gently probed the edges a little.

A sharp stab of pain threw him backwards. His eyes flashed open and everything disappeared. Only the forest stared back at him. His breaths were ragged, but surprisingly enough his head felt fine. He looked over at Obi-wan.

The man looked terrible, at least for how composed he usually was.

There was sweat beading on his forehead, and when he ran a hand through his ginger-gray hair, it stuck up in spikes rather than fall back down. He was massaging his temples with both hands, a grimace on his face. "I apologize for that," he muttered.

Kyle blinked. "That was _you_?"

"I've been hesitant in letting anyone in, and I'm still not sure that I made the right decision in asking you to come here," he explained, still rubbing his head. He finally opened his eyes and blinked a few times.

Kyle was silent for a moment. When Obi-wan eventually looked at him, he smiled a little. "Whatever's in that messed up head of yours is secret safe with me; I promise. But if we're going to try and take on the entire Empire, we're gonna need your help, and that means you need to be able to think clearly without any problems. Now," Kyle said, holding the man's gaze for the first time, "Are you gonna let me in so we can let the bad stuff out?"

Obi-wan's mouth twitched up into a brief smile before he turned serious again. "You sure you can handle it? What you're about to see isn't even remotely light."

"No, I'm not, but I don't have much of a choice." Kyle situated himself once more and then gave the former Jedi an encouraging smile. "Ready?"

Obi-wan didn't answer. He shut his eyes and Kyle closed his own. It didn't take him long to search out the bright spot in the storm that was Obi-wan. Little flecks of light were still ripping off every few seconds, but he looked a little calmer this time. Kyle didn't hesitate.

Right as he was about to make contact, a hole opened up and images started to flood out, rushing at him on a wave more forceful than the swirling darkness around him.

The first was enough to make him flinch and almost pull back, but he forced himself to accept it. It entered his mind easier than he thought it would and he was immediately set upon by a horned monster wearing black, skin splotched in red and black, yellow eyes glinting with malice. A double-bladed lightsaber whirled at him faster than he could follow. He fought it, and in the end, leaping out of a vent in the floor, he sliced it in half and watched the two pieces fall into nothing.

The image dissolved into a mass of darkness, thrumming with uncontrolled anger. Kyle felt cold begin to creep in as the darkness started to consume him, eating away at his unshielded, inexperienced mind. _No! This wasn't supposed to happen!_

A calming tendril of energy reached out from Obi-wan's signature and soothed his pain like liquid water. _I need you to fight it, Kyle. Just release it…_

Release it how? He bit his lip, focusing even harder. A quick search of his own mind allowed him to locate the thrumming remains of Obi-wan's memory. He grabbed onto them, wincing as he yanked them out, and tossed them into the hurricane.

Well, that wasn't so hard…

They rushed back at him on a gale-force wind and slammed into the edge of his mind. He couldn't prevent the cry that escaped his lips this time. He didn't know what else to do, so he let them back in.

And then he realized something. How oblivious was the dark side that it thought it could blot out a person as light as Obi-wan? How stupid could it be? The guy had all of these dark memories inside, and yet he still shined brighter than a star. The dark was fighting for a hopeless cause.

It started as a light chuckle, but pretty soon he was laughing like he had never laughed before. He didn't know why it was so funny; it just was.

Across from him, Obi-wan watched, struck dumb at what he was seeing. Each memory he released was vanishing instantly as it made contact with the bursts of light that were emanating from the young man. Kyle wasn't even letting them in; they didn't stand a chance against whatever the man was throwing at them.

He drew closer, curious as to what he was seeing.

It hit him like a breath of fresh air, laughter so warm, and so sincere that it sent tingles down his spine. This man was laughing. Laughing in the face of memories so dark that Obi-wan had been under a fog for the past twenty years of his life. And the darkness was obliterated immediately. Not even a trace of it left.

Is this really all it took? Laughter?

_Really, old man, how could you possibly think that these little dark specks could possibly beat you down? You're like the stinkin' sun, Obi-wan._

He watched his memories fade as they neared Kyle's signature, eventually bursting into nothing. He watched Siri die again before she smiled and waved at him in an explosion of light. He saw Anakin smiling behind a blue blade, shouting light-hearted taunts as they sparred. Mace even cracked a smile in the midst of fighting hundreds of droids, finding a reason to grin in the middle of a devastating war.

Yoda whacked his shin with that blasted stick of his, but that was the one that finally caused Obi-wan to smile a little in return. He felt his mind get warmer as some of the darkness cleared away. But there was still so much of it left. It was never-ending, it seemed.

Finally, he released the memory that had haunted both his days and his nights for the last two decades. His smiled disappeared as he stared after it, struck once more with a wave of despair. His boy stared back at him through sick, yellow eyes. The blade was red, not blue, and he was lashing out at him in heated rage, beating his soul with an iron rod.

How could he have let this happen? Anakin had been so light! So happy, so passionate, so _loving_! He felt tears streaming down his cheeks as the final slice came towards his arm for what seemed like the billionth time. He felt the sharp stab of pain again, as he had felt it over and over, day after day. His arm flopped in the ash, and he followed it down, struggling to glimpse his little boy behind that evil mask.

But Anakin was no longer there. He was walking away again, and Obi-wan knew that even if he called after him, the newly-born Sith would still walk away. He wouldn't even look back. He had never looked back before, and this time would be no different.

But as the torturous memory finally neared Kyle's signature, Obi-wan couldn't help himself. The despair was almost greater than the day it had actually happened, because this time it felt like it was his last chance before Anakin disappeared forever. _I forgive you, Anakin!_

Anakin's face, if that ghastly man was still Anakin, burst into nothing as it was overcome by Kyle's continuous laughter. Instead of rejoicing, Obi-wan slumped in defeat. That was it. Anakin was gone forever. That had been his last chance.

Anakin didn't turn back… again.

_Obi-wan…_

The voice was coming from Kyle's signature, and Obi-wan strained to hear the man speak. It was hard. The darkness was too much.

_Obi-wan…_

That wasn't Kyle's voice. It wasn't even Kyle's signature.

_Don't leave me, master…_

Obi-wan opened his eyes. Fresh air and damp humidity welcomed him back to Yavin 4. Across from him, Kyle had just stopped laughing and was looking at him in confusion. "What was that? It wasn't either of us, but we're the only two here… right?" Kyle looked around uneasily, searching the forest for danger.

Obi-wan knew they were safe. He felt a smile tug at his mouth and within seconds he was grinning like an idiot. He felt lighter than he had felt in years. Free from the shadows.

He swallowed, suddenly overcome with emotion. "We're fine, Kyle," he managed.

Kyle glanced at him and then openly stared. He could feel the guy burning from here. Obi-wan's signature was pure fire, burning so bright the darkness had no chance of remaining. "What –?"

"It was Anakin. He's still out there." He stood up and offered the younger man a hand. Kyle hesitated before taking it. Obi-wan pulled him to his feet. "Thank you."

Kyle didn't understand what was going on, but the man's joy was contagious and he found himself grinning back. "Uh… sure. Anytime. What did you see?"

Obi-wan turned and began to walk away. He was crying again, and Kyle didn't need to know. "My little boy. He was calling to me."

Kyle didn't need to see the man's face to know he was crying.

* * *

_Well, was it okay? Let me know! Thanks again for your patience, and I hope you're having a wonderful day! :)_

_"Against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand." ~ Mark Twain_

_Happy Easter! - **"**__Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead..." _**___1 Peter 1:3_**


	15. DENIAL

Anakin's POV... he's getting close... :)

* * *

_I tracked them to Tatooine. It hadn't taken too long._

_Course it hadn't been _him_ that had left the trail. That fool Ventress was still alive. Apparently, she was just as hard to kill as my former master. And once again, the two of them were back together. Yes, _back_. From my point of view, they were never apart to begin with. She was always running to him for salvation, and he was always running to her simply because she was running to him._

_His compassion would be his undoing._

_Her signature led me to a cantina in a small town surrounded by nothing but dust. Oh how I hated this planet. I hated its heat, I hated its people, I hated its wildlife, and I hated its pathetic excuse of an environment. Sand, grit, more sand, and more grit, mixed with an overwhelming amount of wind. _

_Right now, it was trying to rip my cloak from my shoulders and it was almost succeeding. "Kriffin' dust ball," I muttered._

_I followed her trail on a speeder to this small hut in the middle of nowhere that could barely qualify as a home. My former master would probably call it a "hovel", or some ridiculous term like that, when in reality all it really was was a hollowed-out mound of something covered in gritty, sandy, dried-up mud._

_I laughed, not caring that the six or so soldiers following me would hear. It was pathetic, what Obi-wan had been reduced to. A desert-dwelling hermit with only a weak-minded Sith for a companion. And said Sith was still running to him for help._

_I could finally sense a few traces of the former Jedi, though I had to try harder than ever to do so. It was enough to remind me of who exactly I was hunting down. Ventress was barely a cause for concern. My former master was on an entirely different level._

_Though far inferior to me in Force-awareness, he had enough trickery up his sleeve to probably elude me indefinitely if he wanted to. That angered me almost to the point of bursting. If I ever did manage to find him, it would be because he wanted me to, not because I actually caught him._

_I could take some satisfaction from the fact that he would be running for the rest of his measly life, though._

_I took a short tour of the little dwelling, feeling my face scrunch more and more at the familiarity of the place. Everything about it screamed Obi-wan. From the occasional bits of his Force presence to the simple neatness and the lingering scent of tea, I couldn't help but growl out some choice Huttese curses at the man._

_The guy had had the nerve to smuggle that piece of junk couch to his hovel. I could still see the rips I had made in it at the age of eleven and the one spot in the cushions that was a little higher than the rest because I had snapped the spring beneath it. Memories like those were not ones that I wanted to relive. I was no longer a Jedi in the Temple. I was no longer Obi-wan's padawan. And I was no longer the Hero With No Fear._

_I was Darth Vader, the most powerful Sith to ever exist. Stronger than any Jedi that came before me, and far superior to anyone in Force-awareness._

_I managed to leave the blasted home before I lost it, but even then I was still seething inside. The man truly was mocking me. He was taunting me with the fact that he was able to escape me yet again. Despite all of the Jedi I had killed, all of the planets I had conquered, the _galaxy_ that I was in control of, he was still waving that little trophy in my face. I had yet to defeat him, and never would if I couldn't catch him._

_I would dare to call him a coward had I not known the man for almost two decades. He was anything but._

_I finally belted out a scream so full of rage that I'm sure he probably heard me, wherever he might be. I could feel all of the soldiers' eyes on me, but I didn't offer an explanation. They didn't need to know._

_They didn't need to know that I still hadn't been able to avenge my beloved wife's death. That I still hadn't killed the man responsible. It was killing me from the inside… _HE_ was killing me._

_The trail picked up where it left off, heading to a planet that made my skin tingle with excitement. This had been the one where my rise to power had truly begun. _

_We began to walk back towards where we had left our ship. Mustafar would not be moving any time soon, but I was running out of patience. This search was looking to be a rather long one._

_I was brooding over this fact when a sudden burst of light sent me stumbling to my knees. A clone reached out to steady me. Normally, I would have shrugged off the offer, but at the moment I didn't really care._

_This light hadn't come from either of Tatooine's suns. It hadn't been a blast from any weapon of some sort and it hadn't been a solar flare or any phenomenon like that._

_It was the Force. And it was _light._ The brightest I had seen in ages. For decades now, I had been comfortably living in the dark, casting out any source of that meddlesome light side that thought it could compete. I had forgotten what it felt like to be blinded. The assault to my senses had been brief, but painful._

_And eerily familiar._

Obi-wan?

_I couldn't help but call out his name. It was an involuntary reflex that I still possessed, for some reason._

_The light continued to burn steadily despite the thunderous storm that the dark was throwing at it. If I had been closer to the source, I would've smothered it with barely an effort._

_Or would I? If this truly was my former master, then it might take more of an effort than I thought._

Obi-wan?_ I tried again, this time louder, with more of my presence tagging along with the message._

_I was surprised when a slight warmth began to creep into my body, relaxing my clenched muscles, and easing the constant throb where my metal hand reached my skin. Whatever this was, it seemed to know exactly where I hurt the most, and it seemed determined to ease that pain. _

_Against my common sense, I grabbed onto it and pulled it in, relishing in it for the brief time it was there. It started to pull back after only a few seconds, which caused the pain to return without warning, though I made the transition smoothly, having lived with it for so long. Even so, I felt my mind form the words before I could stop it… _Don't leave me, master!

_Master? Had I really just called him that? That traitorous deceiver whose promises were worth about as much as the dust beneath my feet? After all these years, I still wasn't rid of the blasted reflexes. I still called out to him whether I wanted to or not. _

_I would have to kill him. That was the only way to be rid of him for good._

_I blasted the beacon of light with the most powerful Force wave I could muster, even though I knew that at this distance it would hardly make a dent. It was mainly just to show him what was coming, what he could look forward to._

_He only seemed to burn brighter, defiantly keeping the dark at bay with seemingly little effort, foolishly beckoning me towards wherever he happened to be._

_I only smiled in response. The search was over. He wanted me to find him. And though it would still take me a few day maybe a week to reach him, I _would_ get there. _

_And he would die when I did. This time I wasn't going to slice off his arm._

_This time his head would be the first thing to go._

* * *

Any thoughts? I'm curious as to what you guys think Anakin is _really _feeling at the moment. Do you think he'll actually be able to bring himself to kill Obi-wan when the two meet again? Will he even get the chance? Let me know! Thanks once again for reading! :)

_"How often it is that the angry man rages denial of what his inner self is telling him." ~ Frank Herbert_


	16. Doing Comes After Trying

_Okay, so I've finally started writing this again! Just needed a break, I guess, until I took interest again. I decided to update, even though I'm not even remotely finished with the story, but I'm hoping to have an update once every two weeks, at least._

_Anyways, hope you enjoy! You may want to go back and read a couple chapters before this one, in case you've forgotten what was going on. :)_

* * *

Luke leaned against the outside wall of their makeshift meeting room, his eyes fixed on the woman sitting on a rock a few feet away. He didn't know whether to be amused or frightened. After they had come up with a somewhat decent plan to infiltrate the Death Star, Asajj had insisted they run it past Obi-wan before they try anything.

That was until they had searched the entire base only to find out that Obi-wan and Kyle had gone missing. Now the woman seemed more intent on tearing the guy to pieces instead of asking his opinion of an attack that could change the fate of the galaxy.

They had been this way for close to an hour now. Asajj sitting on the rock, chin propped in her hands, Luke standing behind her to make sure nothing happened when Obi-wan eventually returned. Not that he would be able to stop her if she tried anything, but it was the thought that counted.

This was the first time that Luke had been able to glimpse proof that Asajj had once been the Sith assassin she was known as. When Obi-wan had gotten angry in the holding block, Luke had easily felt his anger in the Force, though it had been carefully restrained.

Asajj was anything but restrained. Her anger wasn't rolling off in waves; it was oozing off of her in a steady, simmering stream. She was taking no effort to restrain it either. She just let it boil. This was a woman who knew anger so well that it no longer exploded like Obi-wan's had. It took it's time in leaving and left Luke with a cold chill in his bones that wouldn't go away.

If he looked at her eyes, would they hold a hint of yellow behind the dark brown that they usually were? He shuddered at the thought and then flinched when Asajj turned her head ever so slightly. "Do I frighten you?" she asked.

Her voice was surprisingly warm. Luke stared hard at the back of her head, noticing for the first time, it seemed, that she had no hair. "Yes."

There was no need to lie.

"You can feel my anger." It was statement, not a question, and she gave him no time to respond. "It's different from what you're used to, isn't it?"

"It's stronger than Obi-wan's."

"No, not stronger. Just… deeper, I guess," she finished. Then she sighed and stood up, turning to face him. "I'm not going to hurt him, Luke, but yes, I am angry at him. He should have told me where he was going…"

"He should have told _us_," Luke corrected, cocking his head to the side. There was more to their connection than what he had been able to see so far.

Asajj shook her head. "He isn't obligated to tell you anything."

Well, he didn't quite agree with her on _that_. "I think he is," he said firmly. "Now that we're in this thing together, we should all be kept in the loop."

She laughed a little and her mouth lifted in something of a smile. "Have you considered the fact that you've tried your best to keep Obi-wan out of the majority of the planning? If he's to be 'in the loop', as you put it, then I might suggest that you not purposely keep him out of it."

Luke's cheeks burned red and he looked away, as if he had just been rebuked by a parent. He might as well have been. Asajj was reminded again of how young the kid was.

"Maybe once the old fool gets back," she continued, "we can sort things out. Until then, though, you should tell your men to start preparing the ships. I have a feeling Vader is headed our way sooner than we thought."

Luke huffed in frustration. "Where do you get these feelings, anyway? I know about the Force and all; I can sense stuff too, but we're far away from Vader. And I mean _far away_. I don't sense any darkness anywhere…" He crossed his arms and stared at the lady.

She stared at him for a long moment and then looked away. "It's not me; it's Obi-wan. He has a deeper… connection… with Vader than I do. Than any of us do, really." She sat back down and stared at the line of trees that marked the edge of their small clearing. "Which is why I'm a little on edge, because he's been gone for quite some time now."

Luke's eyes narrowed as he stared at the back of her head. He followed her line of sight, suddenly aware of two Force-signatures, one much brighter than the other, headed their way. "He has a connection with Vader? What do you mean? Did he used to be an Imperial, because if he was –"

"No, nothing like that," Asajj snapped. A little harsher than intended, but oh well. This wasn't her conversation to have. It was Obi-wan's. "Look, they're almost here, okay? If you really want to know, ask Obi-wan."

As if on cue, the two men emerged from the trees and began to walk their way. Obi-wan was speaking quietly with Kyle and the conversation stopped once Asajj met them halfway.

Luke blinked in confusion. It was Obi-wan's signature that was brighter than Kyle's. Much brighter. Which was odd, because the old Jedi had always had a weak, muted presence in the Force. But now he was practically an explosion in the night sky. Luke wondered what had made the guy so careless. Before he could ask, though, Asajj got right in Obi-wan's face, causing the man to take a step back in surprise.

"Kenobi, so help me… if you pull another stunt like that –"

"Yes, I know, you'll skewer me where I stand," Obi-wan cut in, somewhat tiredly. "Can we talk about this later? Ana – Vader's going to be here soon and we need to _not_ be here when he arrives, so might I suggest that we –"

"No," Asajj snapped, taking another step towards Obi-wan. The Jedi backed up again. "You may not. Before we do anything at all, you are going to explain to me why you disappeared without telling me where you were going. And then you are going to have a very serious conversation with Luke about who his father is."

Obi-wan's teeth ground together in the silence that followed.

"Guys," Kyle said cautiously, "we really don't have time to be arguing…"

Asajj's gaze snapped to him and Kyle shut his mouth. Had it not been for the intensity in her gaze, Luke might have laughed. As it was, laughter was entirely out of the question. Asajj was not in the mood for it; that much was obvious. Luke was thinking about what she had said anyways. Something about his father… It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't actually know who his father was. Owen and Beru had been great parents and he missed them terribly, but after he had left to join the rebels, he had always had the feeling that he really wasn't related to them at all. Until now, though, that feeling had never really bugged him.

"Kyle, go do something productive, like maybe prep your own fighter or something. And if it's already prepped, prep another one. And if they're all ready to go, feel free to wander around aimlessly. Just don't wander over here," Asajj was saying.

Obi-wan sighed from where he was standing and put a hand on her shoulder. "Asajj, would you relax, please? I apologize for not telling you where we were going, but there's really no need to –"

"I'm not going to ask again, Kyle," she continued, not even paying attention to the Jedi beside her.

Kyle opened his mouth, but then thought better of it and turned to leave, muttering something about her not even asking in the first place. Luke had just built up enough courage to call her off for it, but then she turned that gaze on him and whatever inkling of confidence he had built up instantly crumbled. "Luke, would you be kind enough to lay out the details of our plan for Kenobi, here, and then kindly ask him to tell you about your father? After you two are done, then maybe we can move on from our deep, dark pasts and function properly. Sound like a plan?" she finished with a hard glare.

Luke swallowed. She wouldn't hurt him, would she? She said she wouldn't hurt Kenobi, but she had never said anything about him… no, she wouldn't.

Whatever.

He dared to take a step forward, but stopped when her eyes narrowed a little. Luke took a deep breath and spoke. "Look, I can see you're trying to fix whatever happens to be broken between Obi-wan and I, but it might help if I actually knew what the big deal was. And even if you're just trying to help, that's not really a good reason to start bossing everyone around, because technically, you're not in charge here, and –"

"Right, and who his?" she interrupted, her voice beginning to rise a little. "I seem to recall that you don't want to be in charge anymore, so I'm going to be the boss for a few precious moments, just until you and Obi-wan can get your act together…"

"Believe it or not, I'm still here," a sarcastic voice sounded from beside her.

"… and like it or not, you two are going to talk right _now_. Get it done and over with, so that I don't have to keep doing this. Obi-wan is driving me nuts, and your ignorance isn't helping the matter, so unless something happens, I'm afraid I'm going to have to resort to more unpleasant tactics. I really don't want to, but sometimes that's the way things need to get done…"

"Ignorance? What am I missing?" Luke asked. He had to raise his own voice just to make himself heard over her rant.

"Everything!" She threw up her hands and took a long, slow breath. Her anger was palpable. Luke was almost tempted to try and reach out and touch the thick cloud surrounding her in the Force. Despite that, though, she still hadn't physically lashed out at them. "You're missing everything," she continued.

Luke cast a desperate glance at Obi-wan, but the former Jedi was staring hard at his partner. He looked like he was struggling to decide whether to intervene or just let her finish.

Asajj decided for him. She finally turned her eyes back to him and crossed her arms, as much to convey her point as to keep herself from doing something she might regret. "Would you tell him now? Maybe clue him in that destroying the Death Star is really a small part in the big scheme of things?"

Obi-wan looked away, a brief, guilt-ridden grimace crossing his face. "Kyle's right. We really don't have the time to do this right now…"

"Kyle," Asajj snapped, "is prepping the ships for us, so we have a few minutes to spare. You have no excuse this time. In fact, you hardly ever have a decent excuse to get out of talking about things you don't want to talk about! You know, I used to think you were fearless back in the day, but after a few short months of being with you constantly, it's starting to become clear that I was completely wrong. You're not as strong as everyone thought you were. I don't know why they held you up as a hero –"

Luke felt a low rumble begin in the force and he stared between the two of them. Asajj's anger was still hovering in a dark cloud, but Obi-wan's had started to spark as well, and the rumble grew stronger when he turned to stare her down through flashing eyes. "I never asked to be a hero. I never wanted to be fearless or strong or be some savior to be called on whenever there's trouble. It was all forced on me without the slightest care that I might not be up for the task." His voice was low and his accent more pronounced, and Luke decided that it wasn't a good thing. At all.

"That won't work and you know it. Look what happened," Asajj retorted. "You managed to fool everyone into believe that you were the right man for the job. You even managed to fool _yourself_. Look at you now! An old, washed-up Jedi whose broken past has finally caught up to him. And this same man, having walked through hornet swarms of blaster fire unscathed, having outsmarted countless politicians, can't seem to figure out what it is that's making him so miserable. Blast it, Kenobi, just look at what's in front of you!"

"Could you take a moment to look at it from _my_ perspective? You have no idea what has happened during my life and not the slightest clue of how hard it is to –"

"Perspective?" Asajj asked, a touch of disbelief in her voice. "You really want to bring up _perspectives_? Have you ever considered the fact that it's actually impossible for one person to see from the perspective of another? I'm not you, Kenobi, and you're not me. And we never will be."

Obi-wan ran a hand through his hair and looked away again. "That's not the point…"

"Well it is _now_," Asajj continued. "You want me to understand. I've _tried_ to understand; I really have. The other day in the forest I thought I finally understood what it was that had you all screwed up. I thought we had finally gotten somewhere. And maybe we did, and maybe your little alone time with Kyle got you another step to wherever it is you're trying to get to. Honestly, though, I've given up on trying to see things from _your_ perspective. For that to work, _both_ sides have to give it some effort. You made it halfway and stopped."

"I'm trying…" Obi-wan muttered, turning so that he was no longer facing either of them.

"Well try harder." Asajj stared at his back for a moment longer and then shook her head. "Look, you've brought me back from my pit of despair, and I thought I'd try and return the favor. Maybe I'm just the wrong person for the job, and I'm okay with that. I guess Kyle managed to get a little farther than I did, but obviously he wasn't able to get you there either." She stopped again, a thoughtful and almost sad look coming over her face. "We both know you're almost out of time. I suggest you take the opportunity to talk with the one person who can heal those scars of yours. Once Vader gets here, you may never have the chance again."

"Asajj, I'm not going to –"

She smiled sadly, even though Obi-wan wasn't looking at her. "You never were good at lying to me, Kenobi, so don't think you can start now." She reached out a hand, but her fingers stopped a few inches from his shoulder. She pulled it back. "I'm going to make sure everything's in order before we leave."

She turned and walked away. Luke watched her go, completely confused and more than a little bit nervous. As he waited for the older man to look at him, he felt the low rumble in the Force gradually diminish until it was gone. When Obi-wan finally turned around, Luke didn't give him time to even blink. "What was she talking about? About my father… what do you know?" he asked in a quiet voice. Even as he asked the question, words from a few days ago came flying back to him.

_Anakin never died, the records are false…_

_I am not dead, I was not killed, and Anakin is most definitely still alive…_

… _the darkest, vilest, most tormented thing to ever exist…_

Luke blinked and focused on Obi-wan again. The Jedi was just standing there, arms folded neatly in his sleeves, eyes staring intently at the dirt beneath their feet, as if the answers to everything were buried beneath the surface. "Obi-wan?"

Not even a twitch, but Luke saw him swallow.

"Obi-wan, who is my father?"

The Jedi raised a hand to scratch at the back of his neck with calloused, worn fingers. His other hand dropped to his side, still concealed in a brown glove. Luke found his eyes drawn to it, like it was supposed to mean something to him.

Maybe it did.

Wes had described Vader once, when he had first arrived at their camp, pleading for them to not shoot. Cold eyes, tall, menacing, emotionless, clothed in all black. Right hand replaced by a prosthetic and covered in black.

Obi-wan had said something about matching appendages. Luke felt a hard knot begin to form inside of his gut and he took a shaky step forward. "Obi-wan, is… is Vader… is he…"

"Yes." Barely a whisper. Maybe a trick of the wind. But Luke heard him nonetheless.

No. It shouldn't even be possible. Vader was _evil_, purely evil. And if it was true, why wasn't he himself a Sith? Luke found that his hands were shaking now, whether from anger at the man in front of him or from shock, he didn't know.

Obi-wan was still staring at the dirt. The wind had just started to blow and his robes were swaying with the currents. He seemed content to stand there for as long as it took Luke to go away and not make him say anything else.

Luke glared. "You're lying. You have to be. Vader is a _Sith_!"

"I'm not lying."

Luke could still barely hear him, but the words were so clear that it sounded like Obi-wan was screaming at him. It started to train. Big, wet drops that splashed into the dirt and instantly turned it to mud. He could hear the men a little ways away rushing to get everything ready to go. Vader was coming. His _father_ was coming.

They needed to go. But not yet.

"Why didn't you do anything?" Luke gritted out. "He was a Jedi, right? How did he get to be so dark? What did you do?"

Obi-wan's brow furrowed and he squinted his eyes. Luke couldn't tell if it was rain or tears running down his cheeks. The Jedi's left arm reached over to subconsciously rub at the spot where his prosthetic met his right elbow. "Nothing," he muttered. "I did _nothing_, and that was a mistake. There were warnings, Mace… Yoda… I shouldn't have trained him…"

Luke watched him trail off and stare at the ground again. "But you fought him. Didn't you try and reason with him? Something?"

"He wouldn't listen."

"You should've tried harder," Luke argued, still struggling to accept that Vader was his father. Deep down, he knew it was true. Everything added up. And now that he was beginning to realize that, he needed someone to blame. Anyone. Someone to yell at. It had to be someone's fault, right?

Obi-wan was the obvious choice for obvious reasons.

"I did try," the Jedi was saying. His voice had grown eerily steady, emotionless. _Do or do not; there is no try._ The words were echoing in his head. "I tried; he just wouldn't listen…"

"Then you weren't trying hard enough!" Luke all but screamed.

Gray eyes rose from the mud to meet his furious gaze squarely. They stared into him, unblinking. Luke knew he should be frightened by the intensity that had suddenly flared in those eyes, but he was too angry to be intimidated. The world was crashing down around him and all this man could do was tell him that he had _tried_. What good was trying if nothing came of it?

He held the gaze and narrowed his eyes. "Why did you come here? It would have been better if I'd never known."

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before Obi-wan finally broke the standoff and reached beneath his robe to his belt. His hand emerged holding a silver cylinder, dulled and scratched, about six or seven inches long. He studied it for a few seconds before holding it out to Luke. "Take this. Once you guys reach a safe destination, ask Asajj if she'll teach you how to use it."

Luke shook his head and crossed his arms. "If this is supposed to be a gift to try and make things right, I don't want it."

Obi-wan reached out and took a firm hold of Luke's wrist. He slapped the lightsaber into his palm and closed his fingers around it. When Luke tried to pull away, the hand tightened and he grunted a little. "Let go of me."

"I came here so that you would know the truth," Obi-wan said and let go of his wrist. "Whatever small amount of peace I hoped to find was obviously not waiting for me, but I have done what I came here to do."

"And now you're just going to leave?" Luke asked incredulously. "You're going to run away from him _again_?"

"Might I remind you," Obi-wan began, his voice dropping to ice, "that I did not run away from him the first time. My durasteel _arm_ is proof of that." He sighed tiredly and gestured towards the commotion on the base. "The time for me to make an impact on Anakin's life has come and gone. He will no more listen to me anymore than he would listen to the sands shift on Tatooine. It's up to you now."

"Me?" Luke blinked. "But I'm just –"

"You're his _son_, Luke," Obi-wan clarified. As if he had to drop the same bomb twice. "You're the only one that has a chance. Now go and get ready to leave. Once everyone is off this planet, we'll be able to rest easy again."

Luke clipped the lightsaber to his own belt and glared at Obi-wan one last time. "You're responsible for your own mistakes; don't place the fate of the galaxy on me," he snapped, before turning and running towards the X-wings.

Obi-wan watched him go and then glanced at his arm. It still throbbed every once and a while where the metal met the bone. It was a permanent reminder of his ultimate failure. The last in a string of many. How many rights would it take to account for one universe-changing mistake?

He sighed again and began to slowly walk towards the base.

It didn't matter. Only Anakin mattered now. If Asajj was right, and his brother was still within reach, he would try his hardest to get him back.

_Do or do not; there is no try._

He gritted his teeth. Yoda was wrong. He had tried his entire life to make the galaxy a better place, and in the end, he had failed miserably. Yes, it was hard to accept. Exceedingly difficult, actually. But at least he had _tried_. The doing would come after the trying, but in his case, it seemed it would never come at all.

He watched Luke disappear into the chaotic rush to get everyone off of the planet. A smile graced his face for a brief moment. He had succeeded in one thing, at least.

Luke knew the truth. He _knew_. And that alone was enough to assure him that hope would never be lost as long as that boy was alive. Sooner or later, Luke would go after his father.

Obi-wan just had to make sure that it wasn't sooner. The shock was still too painful for Luke right now. He was in no shape to meet Anakin toe to toe, physically or mentally.

So when Asajj ran up to him a few minutes later, telling him that the small transport ship was ready to be boarded, he looked her in the eyes and told her that he would be taking his own starfighter.

Asajj hesitated. She had already known he would do this; her last ditch effort to get him on the transport had been doomed to fail from the moment she had first thought to ask.

"Obi-wan, you don't have to do this…"

He still had the ability to smirk, it seemed. "Come now, darling. Do you really think I'd have it any other way?"

She only stared at him, her eyes pleading with him to change his mind.

He only shook his head. "Keep him safe, Asajj. I'll be fine." He turned and headed for his fighter before she could try and talk some sense into him.

Really, _this_ was the only _sensible_ thing for him to do.

Asajj watched him go and almost ran after him. She stopped herself, though. He was right. He was always right. It was one of a few irritating traits that characterized him.

Well, he was usually right when it came to anything other than his own well-being. Which was why she was suddenly more afraid than she had ever been in her entire life.

Things were _not_ going to be _fine. _Especially not when Obi-wan Kenobi said so. That much she knew to be true.

The last glimpse she got of him was him staring fondly at his old, beaten-up starfighter, a far-off look in his eyes, before he hoisted himself into the cockpit and snapped it shut.

Asajj was forced to turn her attention back towards getting everyone to where they needed to be. Eventually, once everyone was either in the transport or one of the X-wings, she realized something.

She hadn't told him goodbye. And, more importantly, she hadn't thanked him.

For anything. He hadn't given her the chance.

* * *

_Well? I'm coming off a long break from this story, so hopefully it was okay. Please review and thanks again for your patience! :)_

_"God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today. Have you used one to say 'thank you?'" ~ William Arthur Ward_


	17. Blasted Old Fool

_Update! Enjoy! :)_

* * *

There was no light here. Not even a spark. The stars had to be figments of her imagination, because the chills running up and down her spine were too cold for anything that burned that brightly to exist. Asajj shivered.

The change had been evident after only _half_ of the transport broke through the last layer of the atmosphere. Apparently, Vader had yet to set foot on Yavin 4. That was the only reason she could come up with for why the moon still had a fraction of warmth surrounding it. Or perhaps it was their small group that was leaving that had provided the warmth.

Either way, she knew it wouldn't be warm after this.

Vader was close. Not as in 'a few days' close, but 'a few hours' close. Maybe minutes. Kenobi had said he was a few days out. Had he lied intentionally? Or hadn't he known?

And why was she stuck in a stupid transport when he was out there on his own in an old, war-torn starfighter that creaked when it flew? _Blasted fool…_

The thought was directed more at herself than Kenobi, but she couldn't help but think that he had probably intended for it to be this way. He had never cared what happened to himself before; why start now? Her hands clenched into fists at her sides and she had to struggle not to punch straight through the small amount of metal separating her and about twenty others from the vacuum of space. Now _that_ would be an interesting conversation to have. She was almost tempted to do it just to have a conversation starter once they had both passed into the Force...

No. She wasn't going to think like that. He wasn't going to die, and neither was she. Everything was going to be _fine._

At least that's what she kept telling herself as they flew deeper into the dark unknown. It was all so unfamiliar now. The dark had taken over, so heavy and thick that she could hardly sense Obi-wan's presence a few dozen yards to their left.

But she could sense Vader clearly. He was beside them, around them, over, under, and _in_ them. She shuddered.

What had _happened_? He had been so light!

She was suddenly very, very afraid. It was a new emotion for her, and she didn't like it. She had felt fear before, but not this kind. Not the kind that revolved entirely around another person. She had never cared for anyone else.

But now she found herself muttering whispered prayers into the air around her, to a Force that she hoped was still out there burning somewhere. A few questioning glances flew in her direction, but she ignored them.

For the first time since she had known him, after seeing him fight his way through blaster fire like it was child's play, after fighting him dozens of times and only ever earning a slightly amused grin from him, after torturing him for hours on end only to realize he was never going to break, she honestly believed that this was something he couldn't handle. This was not the Vader he had fought on Mustafar.

This Vader was worse. This Vader would kill him. Easily.

Asajj no longer had the time to think about it, though, because the transport suddenly jerked forward and shuddered violently before veering off to a different course. She rushed forward to the pilot, but no words needed to be said.

The transport had just taken a hit, which said enough.

Vader had arrived. Whether he had brought Anakin along with him or not had yet to be determined.

~~OOO~~

Obi-wan watched the gunship surge out of hyperspace and only blinked in response. The twelve fighters that followed were hardly surprising either. Oddly enough, the first thing that crossed his mind was not the question as to why he hadn't sensed Anakin being this close. It was the fact that he didn't recognize the model of starfighter the Imperials were flying.

He felt a small twinge of embarrassment at that. Who cared what they were flying?

And why _hadn't_ he sensed Anakin being this close? Perhaps he had, and had ignored the Sith's presence thinking that they would still have enough time to get out of there safely… no. He had known. Deep down, he had known that Anakin had been close.

Close enough for communication to leak over the old, shriveled bond that was still hanging weakly in the back of his mind. Anakin had called his name. Twice. He still couldn't quite believe it. Was Asajj right? Did Anakin still have a small shred of his old self left?

The itch to know had prevented him from leaving too soon. He had to meet Anakin toe to toe. Even if his old friend was still bent on killing him, he had to know if there was still hope left.

While the urge to see Anakin for the first time in a long time was impatiently driving him forward, he still kept in mind the fact that he was not alone. In order for this to work, he needed to be alone. Not with Luke or Kyle. Not with Asajj. Not with a small army of rebels covering his back.

Completely _alone_.

The irony brought a twisted smile to his lips. A plan like that was born not from Obi-wan Kenobi, but from Anakin Skywalker. Reckless, bold, foolish, probably a ten percent chance of survival… Anakin truly would be proud.

The old Anakin anyway.

Even as Rebel X-wings clashed with Imperial… whatever they were… Obi-wan's senses were zeroing in on the one fighter that contained his former padawan.

He didn't need the Force to pick out which one it was. _Honestly, Anakin…_

All he needed was one set of eyes accustomed to watching a former pod-racer unleash as much mayhem as possible in the shortest amount of time while diving and spinning in an array of dazzling maneuvers that any sane human being would never attempt. Having cleaned up plenty of Anakin's messes in the past, it wasn't entirely difficult to spot the source of said mess that had currently exploded into existence.

Literally.

Obi-wan winced as first one, then two, then five rebel lives flickered and then vanished forever. He felt each one like a sting on the arm. Images of younglings splayed out on the Temple floors flashed through his mind and then he was falling again. Hundreds of feet through the air towards a dirty pool of water below.

He blinked and black space was lit up in front of him once more. Order 66 was part of his past, not his present, and certainly not his future. Not if he could help it. He wouldn't be put through that kind of pain again.

His breaths were coming in short gasps and his hands were shaking. It took more effort to calm himself than he would have liked. Who was he kidding? That pain would never leave him. It had become yet another of dozens of scars that couldn't be seen, but would always be felt.

_You even managed to fool yourself!_

All the time. He smiled again. Just for a second. She was always right, it seemed. Asajj was more intelligent than she gave herself credit for. And a lot like Anakin, now that he thought about it.

Blunt, aggressive, withholding no secrets…

Except for one. He felt the pain again, only it was from a different scar.

He swallowed and gritted his teeth, his hands latching on to the familiar controls. He spun his fighter onto a path that would eventually take him to Anakin's own ship.

Maybe if he had been able to save Padme, this would all have never happened. He knew that was why his old friend was out to kill him. Anakin blamed him and no one else.

Understandable, he supposed. Anakin blamed him for a lot of things, and this was just one more to add to the list.

The time for dwelling on such things would come soon enough, though. For now, he needed to get Anakin's attention, and quickly. He was surprised that the Sith hadn't found him already. Once he saw the fighter that was desperately trying to elude Anakin's barrage of fire, he understood why.

"Blast you, Anakin," he muttered as he forced his fighter to go faster. "Your son's as foolish as you are."

Luke apparently thought he could take on the Sith Lord himself and was paying for it dearly. It hurt to know that Anakin clearly knew who he was shooting at. He was toying with his son the same way that he had toyed with the younglings before slaughtering them after growing bored.

Even as he neared the two men, dodging red bolts of plasma and exploding debris, he reached forward and opened a channel. "Luke, can you hear me?" He kept his voice level even though panic was rushing through his veins.

"Obi-wan? I need help! Vader's right on my tail!" Luke's voice was frantic and Obi-wan could practically feel the boy's fear from where he was flying. "Does he know I'm his son? He won't kill me, will he? Obi-wan?"

"Luke, I'm going to draw him away, okay? I need you to get everyone else out of here. Can you do that?"

"I – what?"

Obi-wan winced and turned the volume down. "Luke, listen –"

"No!" The youth was shouting now. Somehow he still had the presence of mind to juke and spin his way out of the spattering of fire that Anakin was still throwing at him.

Obi-wan marveled. Were piloting skills genetic? _Great, Anakin, just wonderful. First you, now your son…_

He sighed. Sometimes he really, _really_, despised his own sense of humor.

"No! I am not going to watch you kill yourself while the rest of us run away! This isn't your decision to make; I'm the one being shot at, so unless you shoot me down yourself, there is no way that I'm going to let you –"

"Luke, get ready to move," Obi-wan interrupted. "I'm almost there."

"Good," Luke snapped. "We'll take him together."

_Anakin, so help me…_ Obi-wan held back a groan of frustration. _Of course _Luke would be just as stubborn and just as reckless as his father. He shouldn't have expected anything else, really.

Obi-wan zipped by a couple more explosions and braced himself, fingering the button under his thumb. "Last chance, Luke."

"Until what? Look, Obi-wan, I was angry at you before and I still am, but that doesn't mean that you have to go and sacrifice yourself to make everything right. Only a fool would do something like that!"

Obi-wan slowed slightly and watched Luke approach on a path that would take him right in front of his own starfighter. Anakin was a dozen yards behind, still firing wildly.

"Then do yourself a favor," Obi-wan said, "and don't become an even greater fool by following me." Luke flew towards him and Obi-wan's thumb pressed down.

His starfighter shuddered a bit as it fired, but it held its course well enough. Obi-wan only needed to shoot once. Being around the Order's greatest pilot for almost two decades had made him into a decent pilot on his own, but he had always been a good shot.

It wasn't Anakin's fighter that spun out of control, though. He had never been the target. Even as the bolts tore through Luke's X-wing, a string of very unhappy words attacked him from the com.

He flipped it off. Luke would be able to limp away from this fight. Asajj could deal with the aftermath. The boy would be safe and that was what mattered.

Obi-wan's starfighter veered straight into the path of the oncoming fighter piloted by the man that held the fate of the galaxy in the palms of his hands. Anakin would have to turn or hit him.

He turned.

Obi-wan was flying at an angle, almost completely on his side. It didn't surprise him in the least when Anakin turned and mirrored him exactly. To tell the truth, he would've been disappointed if he hadn't.

Both heads turned at the same time and their eyes met. Flashing gray eyes tinged with blue stared into icy blue eyes tinged with sickly yellow. No words were capable of describing what each man was feeling at that moment.

But the moment was broken when one of the men smiled. The other was not thrown off by it simply for the fact that it was moments like these that tended to inspire the guy to fits of witty sarcasm and dry humor. And he wasn't impressed. In fact, he was terribly annoyed and more than a tad bit peeved.

What did surprise him were the five words that followed. He shouldn't have been able to hear them through the two cockpits that separated them, but he did anyway. It didn't register until after he heard them that the man's lips hadn't even moved.

The man spun his fighter in a graceful roll and then took off towards the moon that was looming in the distance. The Sith angrily jerked his controls and sped after him. He called off his own men as well. He had what he wanted.

And that should have pleased him. Kenobi was no match for him when starfighters were involved. It would be child's play to shoot him down.

But those five words had not been spoken aloud. They had broken through his shields easily, as if Kenobi had simply knocked and a door had opened. The bond was still there. Old, frail, battered and bruised, torn to shreds in places. It shouldn't even be possible.

_Come and get me, Anakin._

It was as close to a taunt as he had ever heard from the Jedi. It _was_ a taunt. A challenge. The Jedi were above taunting, particularly _this_ Jedi. It irritated him that Kenobi had the audacity to act so confident in a fight where he clearly had no advantage. The man had just committed suicide and he was bold enough to find a way to use a bond that shouldn't even be usable.

It briefly crossed his mind that he had just let every last one of those rebels get away, including his son. Sidious had once insisted that the boy be turned before he was too old to be a problem. Why he had constantly objected was beyond him, but even now he still wasn't convinced that turning his son was in his best interests. He had changed records, done everything he could to ensure that Luke never learned the truth. He had hoped the boy would go on to live a normal life and never get mixed up in any of this.

It was out of self preservation mostly. If the boy was turned, he might eventually try and kill him which, in turn, would force him to kill his own son. Even as a Sith, he could still see how twisted that was. But why was it so wrong? He was a Sith; he shouldn't be thinking these things…

_Come and get me, Anakin._

Anakin. Even worse, the Jedi was using a name he hated. A name he no longer wanted to remember. He continued to mock him, even in a hopeless situation.

He opened fire and held the button down. He didn't care if his fighter over-heated in the process. This Jedi was not going to be allowed the privilege of freedom any longer. Not only in the physical sense, but in the emotional sense. Vader was going to _own_ him.

The Jedi juked nimbly from side to side, dancing his way through the fire effortlessly. Vader disappeared for a moment and it was Anakin behind the controls, watching his former master evade death for what seemed like the millionth time. Vader roared back with a vengeance, hating the familiarity of the fighter in front of him and reveling in the fact that Kenobi was running from him. He had waited a long time for this.

He started matching Kenobi's movements. It was hardly worth the effort. For as much as Kenobi had taught him all those years ago, whenever it had come to piloting, the master had become the student. Every bit of skill Kenobi possessed in a starfighter was mostly due to experience with a padawan that ran a starfighter like a third arm.

Vader chuckled darkly as his shots began to skim the fighter in front of him. Kenobi was pulling every last move out of his pockets. They were deep pockets, granted, but not nearly deep enough. Even so, the Jedi continued to shift just enough so that every shot was just that: a skim. It was a clear reflection of the lightsaber form that had made Kenobi famous. Always defending, never attacking.

Vader smirked. Surely the man knew that strategy would never work in this situation. At all.

They entered the atmosphere and soon enough, the Jedi had taken the chase below the tree line. Vader was grinning ear to ear; he was in his element. Had anyone cared to listen for a split second, they might have heard joyful laughter echoing in the Force from years ago.

Anakin had thrived in these moments.

As Vader was thriving now. Kenobi just didn't quite have the skill that the Sith had. He was forced to fly slower while Vader was tempted to go even faster than he had been flying in space. He opened fire again.

This time he didn't miss. He hit the fighter point blank on the left side, the bolts easily shearing the wing right off. The starfighter spun out of control and crashed through a few trees before sliding to a halt between two others.

Vader wasted no time in finding a nearby clearing to land in. He could hardly contain a shiver of pleasure at the sight of _that_ starfighter in such a state. He drew to within a few yards and stopped to take in the sight.

A long time ago he might have been panicking right now. This man used to mean so much to him.

Not anymore.

The maroon paint was chipped and scarred in places and there was a huge dent just below the hatch on the left side. Smoke was riding a lazy current of air to the sky. The heavy smell of fuel hung in the air. The right wing was bent, resting parallel with the trunk of the tree that had stopped the starfighter's slide.

The hatch had been ripped off. By a tree branch or one of his shots, Vader didn't care. He could see Kenobi slumped in the seat, unmoving, blood staining the left side of his head red. He took a few steps closer and leaned over so he could see inside.

The Jedi's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. So he was still alive.

_Of course_ he was still alive. This man was luck personified. Ironic, considering his old master had never believed in luck.

It seemed that luck had finally run out.

"Hello, _master,_" Vader sneered. "Long time no see."

The unconscious man gave no reply but the steady sound of his breathing.

_Come and get me, Anakin._

The taunt still hung in the air, and while Vader had yet to feel like he'd won a victory over this man, this was definitely a step closer. He smiled down at the mess he had created.

The rebels would still be out there for him to find later.

For now, he was going to heed some of his old master's advice, or some of his _grand_master's rather. He was going to live in the moment. And he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

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_I'm not quite sure about how this chapter turned out. I felt I could have done better, but hopefully it was enjoyable enough. __Just a little reminder: Vader/Anakin does not wear the suit in this story. Just in case any of you guys missed that. ;)_

_Thanks for reading and if you have a second, I would love it if you reviewed! :)_

_"Who's the more foolish: the fool, or the fool who follows him?" ~ Obi-wan Kenobi (I slipped a variation of this quote into this chapter cuz I like it so much)_


	18. A Cold That Hurts

_Okay... I really do apologize. I've had a lot going on, but not enough to where I should have neglected this story so much, so I'm sorry for such a long wait. I don't think I should make any promises as to when I'll get the next chapter up simply because I haven't been very good about living up to them. I really do apologize... Just know that I do intend to finish this story sooner or later._

_Here's the next chapter, though! A little shorter than the previous ones, but hopefully enjoyable! :)_

_Thanks again for your wonderful patience and for being such loyal readers and reviewers!_

* * *

In the life of a Jedi, one gets to know death to a point of familiarity, intimacy even. At one point in time, that wasn't true. The Jedi had started out as peacekeepers, a silent force of warriors who would fight if called upon, but were more than content to simply go about their business, occasionally stepping in to avert a crisis or two. But by the time the Clone Wars arrived, everything had changed. Desperately clinging to their title of "peacekeepers", the Jedi were forced to participate in one of history's most violent bloodbaths. During this time, death was reduced to a casual event, as hundreds were dying every day.

Obi-wan had faced his fair share of it and more. He and Anakin had always been right in the thick of things, determined to end the war by winning as many battles as they could. It had always been to no avail, and Obi-wan had always known this, but he had constantly pushed the thought out of his mind, daring to hold onto whatever shred of hope was left.

In the end, it hadn't mattered. The Jedi and the Republic fell and the Separatists took over with the Sith holding the reins. And Obi-wan was left with a shattered mirror to look into, the broken pieces a reflection of his memories. So few of them had been good, and so many of them had him a heartbeat away from death.

He woke with a headache of galactic proportions that was overshadowed only by the numbing pain in the rest of his body. Even then, he paid neither of those things any mind. He had experienced headaches before, and he had been through much worse than whatever wounds now ravaged his weathered body. He pushed both away, drawing the Force close for comfort.

It was cold. Not the cell he had been deposited in, though a non-sensitive being might find it a little chilly. Having slept in worse conditions during the war, the cell was hardly a cause for concern. In fact, it was a roof over his head and a dry place to sleep. Both good things.

No. The Force was cold. Freezing, actually. He drew it close only to let go with a shudder. A sudden fit of chills racked his body and he couldn't make them stop. They went on for the better portion of a few minutes, causing his bones to rattle and his injuries to throb even more to the point where he was pulling his torn robe around himself in an effort to hide. That was a task in and of itself since he couldn't get one of his arms to work. No matter; it was a lost cause.

The chills running up and down his spine ceased, but he couldn't stop shivering, and he knew he wouldn't be able to. It had never been this frigid before, not even on Mustafar, though it had certainly been cold despite the molten landscape. Right now, Mustafar didn't even compare. The Force was pure ice. _Colder_ than ice, if there was such a temperature.

He pushed it as far from himself as he could, but he could still feel it. He would always be able to feel it. For the first time in his life, Obi-wan cursed the midi-chlorians that ran through his blood. He cursed them with every vile, Huttese phrase he knew, and then he moved on to other languages.

No torture compared. Where was _his_ Force? Where was the light? He had always been a firm believer in balance. There were two sides to everything. Fire and ice, hot and cold, light and dark, love and hate, laughter and tears, right and wrong, black and white… himself and Anakin.

But there was no light here, no warmth, no hopeful song echoing in the darkness. It was just silent and cold. It was a cold that hurt more than his injuries, one that he couldn't push away because he would always be able to feel it…

He had wished for death only once before, and fleetingly. Lying on the charred sands of Mustafar, the other half of his arm discarded, watching his brother and son walk out of his life for the final time. Obi-wan had wanted it to end. All of it. His life had been nothing if not one epic tragedy. Then he had remembered the children and thoughts of dying had instantly fled his mind.

Luke knew, though.

He knew who Vader was and with that already done, Obi-wan knew that he was only embarking on one last desperate journey to save his friend. As of right now, he no longer cared. Ana – _VADER _– had taken away his source of serenity, the only thing left that was keeping him sane. It was supposed to be there forever, and he had told his old padawan this on more than one occasion, trying to instill in him the knowledge that no matter how dire things might become, there was always something to hold onto.

It was a lie. The light was gone now. He couldn't even feel a sliver of warmth, and it made him sick. A sick, shivering, frail shell of the man he had once been. This had all been a very bad idea.

He wanted to die. He wanted to die before he transformed into something he didn't want to become, whatever that was. He had never dwelled on that before. Had never even thought about it, actually. But here, having realized that everything he had ever believed in had been torn to shreds, Obi-wan felt himself sliding away. The process had begun twenty years earlier on that kriffin' waste of a planet, and it had slowly continued over the years.

It scared him.

And it appeared to be something he couldn't control, because when the tapping of boots echoed down the corridors, he felt his blood begin to boil. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that he had expertly pinned down before. Even now, it wasn't welcomed, but neither was it controlled. He was slipping away, sliding out of reach, barely balancing on the edge of someplace dark…

The boots stopped and his eyes rose to meet a very familiar pair of glinting orbs, yellow melting into blue. A cold smirk accompanied those eyes. Everything about this place was cold; he was still shivering…

"There is no emotion, there is peace." The voice was Anakin's and it was Vader's, mocking the Code with every bit of sarcasm the man possessed.

Oddly enough, Obi-wan could not bring himself to make a witty reply. In fact, he didn't even have one of his infamous bad feelings. He didn't know what he was feeling, because it was so far outside of who he normally was.

But it wasn't sadness. He had felt enough of that during his nearly sixty years, and it had done nothing to solve any of his problems.

It wasn't determination, because that had withered and died the minute he had crashed and blacked out.

It wasn't hope. He didn't even know what that was anymore.

It was none of those. It was a league apart from any of them, on the opposite end of the spectrum, in the shady place he had managed to avoid until now.

Anger.

The smirk transformed into a wicked grin on the face studying him from the other side of the reinforced bars. "What, no witty comebacks from the great Obi-wan Kenobi? Whatever happened to you, _master_?"

Obi-wan's eyes flashed and the glare that followed was positively lethal.

The Force was shaking.

~~OOO~~

_I had been on the receiving end of his eyes for more that fifteen years during my time as a Jedi. No man, or woman for that matter, had eyes that compared with the amount of penetration in his glares. They were enough to stop a man cold, even a Sith._

_But they had never frightened me. They had only ever made me realize when I was in trouble, nothing more._

_This time was entirely different. I did feel something. I wasn't scared, per say. I was a Sith Lord for Force's sake! But the tense feeling in my gut was enough to put me on alert. It was never a good idea to make a Jedi mad, especially one who had plenty to be angry about._

_I couldn't help but chuckle a little, though. My plan was working perfectly. At first, I had intended to kill him, but when he had survived the crash on Yavin 4, I knew that manipulating him would be much more satisfactory. And challenging._

_It would be hard to manipulate one of the greatest Jedi who ever lived. Not great because of his accomplishments, though those could certainly not be ignored, but great because of his firm position in the light. I had been looking forward to it. The past few years had afforded me only work and no pleasure, though killing Jedi had certainly been enjoyable._

_Turning Kenobi would be quite an accomplishment. Even now I could barely keep myself from looking away from his intense gaze. He was clearly angry, that much was obvious from the way the Force was rumbling anxiously. If he weren't so injured I might have felt a small inkling of fear, but he was hardly capable of any escapades right now._

_I decided he could go a few days longer before I healed him. _

_I sniffed and gave him a little bow. "Someone will bring you food later. It's good to see you again, _master_."_

_He still said nothing even as I turned and walked way, though I could feel his eyes on the back of my head. The nervous feeling didn't go away. It only got worse._

_It would have been better if he had said something. Anything at all._

_A cold, blue-gray glare was all that I received, and it was icier than the Force that I had lived in for so long. Colder than ice, if that was possible._

_It was a cold that hurt. _

_It should have been progress, to see him in such a state. Instead, I had the feeling that this was a very bad idea. An angry Jedi is a force to be reckoned with, especially one of his caliber…_

_I knew that better than anyone else. As I walked away, my nerves tensed up even more._

_Was Kenobi a threat to my position?_

_I almost turned around and killed him then and there. _

_Almost. _

_I don't know what held me back._

* * *

_Thanks again for reading and if you can spare a moment I would love a review! :)_

_"Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind." ~ Robert Green Ingersoll_


	19. To Mustafar

_Hey, guess what? I updated! I know, what a concept, huh. Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and please have a very wonderful and superbly fantastic New Year! I hope 2012 brings you all happy days and dreams come true! :)_

_Enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

It was cold here. Very cold. It made the void in the Force feel warm, and she was grateful for that. If the Force felt warm, then she was warm, no matter how cold the extremities were.

But just because she felt warm again didn't mean that she wasn't miserable. The landscape here was nothing but an endless sea of snow, stuck in formations that were both soft and sharp. There were jagged outcroppings of ice towering above her in some parts, but if she were to turn away and stare in the opposite direction, she would meet with frosty, rolling hills. It was a marvelous study in contrast, except for the fact that everything was frozen, including the ocean beneath her feet. She hadn't realized Hoth was covered completely in water.

Luke, wearing a slightly arrogant smirk, had just informed her of that little fact. The only reason she had let the arrogance slide was because the smile on the youth's face was the first she had seen in three days.

She had Vader to thank for that. And Obi-wan. Asajj still couldn't believe he had made such a reckless sacrifice. Didn't he realize that he was what Vader had wanted? That giving himself up was, in essence, surrendering the battle?

"Of course he did," she muttered. _Of course he did..._

The wind howled back at her, unable to offer any words of comfort or any form of conversation. It only reminded her of how alone she was. Without Obi-wan, she was a jagged rock in a pile of smooth river stones. There were dozens of men and women with her, far more than had been on Yavin 4. The rebel force here was much larger and somewhat organized, but even that observation would not give her peace.

They hadn't been through what she had been through. They hadn't lived through one of the bloodiest wars the galaxy had ever been a part of. They hadn't been tortured at the hands of a Sith master and they certainly hadn't struggled to escape from the dark and join the light. The majority of them couldn't even feel the Force.

And even those who could, Luke and Kyle included, even them... they could hardly begin to understand everything that she was feeling or had felt. They didn't know anything.

Luke certainly thought he did. Now that he had reunited with a larger army of rebels, he had once more taken on a leadership role and was completely comfortable telling her what needed to be done and how to do it. Even Kyle had grown more confident. Who knew that was all the push the two needed to get stuff done? Which left her where exactly?

Asajj was tired of it. She was tired of all of it.

Which was what had brought her out here. Sure, it was freezing outside and standing still certainly wasn't helping, but it was a far more comfortable place to be than inside with a bunch of ignorant younglings that were absolutely clueless and hardly fit for...

Another howl, this one much louder. It cut her off from continuing her silent rant.

Obi-wan had understood. He had understood everything. He had fought in the same war. He had seen men killed every day. He had faced the Sith multiple times, been tortured to near death at her own hand, been forced to feel the deaths of hundreds of Jedi without being able to do a thing about it...

It had been just the two of them in a sea of new faces. And now it was only her. Alone.

And she didn't have a clue of what to do now that he was gone. He had always had a plan, always knew what needed to be done, but now he had disappeared. He had thrown himself into the claws of the dragon, because he had felt that it was the right thing to do.

Now that Asajj thought about it a little more, she realized that it was probably for the best. Obi-wan and Vader would always be connected, no matter how much distance separated them, and therein lied the problem.

There was where the heart of the matter lived. This was what no one who hadn't grown up during the Clone Wars would understand. It was why Luke didn't understand, why none of the rebels understood. They were all too young to remember. Sure, they had heard names, they had read stories. Even Luke, knowing who his father was now, knew of the Sith's true identity. Luke had surely heard about Anakin Skywalker. The kid surely knew of all of the former Jedi's exploits, his heroic victories and rescues. Most people had heard of Anakin, and because they knew of Anakin, they also knew of Obi-wan.

The Team would never fade from legend. Most people probably thought they had never even died at all, that they were just biding their time, waiting to strike when given the perfect opportunity, just like in the stories.

If they had truly known the two Jedi, they would know that Anakin and Obi-wan never waited for anything. Especially the former, who would jump into seemingly any situation without a care in the world, which left the other to do all of the caring and the thinking. What most people didn't realize was that the stories were nothing like the reality. She had _been_ the victim of a few and had heard the rest from an angry Sith master determined to take out all of his anger on whoever happened to be within arm's reach. This legend had been her reality, and no rebel could possibly comprehend that. They didn't have a kriffin' clue.

The state of the galaxy was not dependant on who won a war between the Empire and the Rebellion. It was not a battle fought between the powerful and the oppressed. It wasn't even a battle between the light and the dark.

It was Anakin and Obi-wan. The Force's son and the father it had entrusted him to. Everything else was a simple squabble on the sideline. Dangerous and often deadly squabbles, to be sure, but squabbles nonetheless. The war being fought on the playing field wasn't a fight between two teams; it was just two men.

Nobody knew that they had died, that they wouldn't, in fact, be riding in on a wave of blaster fire ready to save the day once more. Nobody realized that the Force was cold because these two men had ceased to live in it like they used to

Anakin and Obi-wan.

The shiver that rocketed up and down her spine wasn't from the cold. Those two names still gave her the chills. She had often wondered how only two men could gain such a reputation and such fame in just a few years.

The white landscape around her provided no distractions, and she easily remembered the first time she saw the two of them.

Asajj hadn't even fought them; she had only observed from the upper level of a deserted droid factory as they proceeded to rip apart the inner workings of the place and lay waste to any droids that happened to twitch. Why they had come to the run-down factory was beyond her, but that hadn't mattered. She had seen plenty of Jedi before, had fought them on more than one occasion, but these two had been different.

It wasn't just the way the older one scowled as his young partner destroyed the machinery in a very un-Jedi-like fashion, screaming like a wounded krayt dragon and drunkenly swinging his lightsaber around his body. It wasn't the light banter that passed between them... although, that part of the moment still made her smile.

_"Oh well done, Anakin. Melting your name into that scrap of metal was a nice touch. I'm sure they'll forever remember the man who laid waste to a factory that was already wasted to begin with..."_

_"Is that supposed to be 'thank you' for saving your life a minute ago?"_

_"It was half of a droid, Anakin, and it barely moved."_

_"It was signaling the rest of them. If I hadn't lopped its head off, we would -"_

_"Still be wondering why you felt the need to leave your autograph in a place that will soon be classified as a scrap field."_

_"Yes, well... it will forever be _my_ scrap field."_

_"Subtle."_

After that conversation had passed, she had seriously been wondering why her master had ordered her to follow these particular Jedi around. They acted more like teenagers than seasoned warriors. She had been surprised to learn the name of the younger one. Realizing that she was following around the two most talked about Jedi at the time had made the situation all the more confusing. They hardly seemed worthy of the reputation that proceeded them.

But then she noticed something peculiar about the older man. It had nothing to do with physical appearance or the way he was acting around his young protégé. Both of them were still behaving like younglings.

Outwardly, he was normal. In her eyes, he didn't even present a threat.

Inwardly, in the Force, he was nothing. Obi-wan didn't have a signature. At first, it had puzzled her. She wondered if he could even feel the Force, and if he couldn't, she wondered why he had been trained as a Jedi.

Then he had laughed. A deep, genuine, rich chuckle that caused a wide grin to break out on the younger knight's face.

Outwardly, nothing changed. It was just a laugh.

Inwardly, over her, under her, all around her... the Force had laughed. She had felt it. A sudden warming and thrumming that made the little hairs on her arms stand on end. It was unlike anything she had ever felt.

But Anakin was the Chosen One. _He_ wasn't supposed to have a signature. _He _was the one who _was_ the Force. _He _should've been the one causing the Force to laugh. Not Obi-wan.

She had left then, wondering if the Team had somehow gotten switched around. Maybe Obi-wan was actually the Chosen One and Anakin was nothing more than another Jedi.

The next few months had disproved that theory completely. Anakin was indeed the Force's Chosen One. He could wield it like no other, and the Force trembled with restrained power whenever he was near.

The next few years would bring greater realization as to the full potential of the Chosen One and an even larger amount of confusion as to Obi-wan's lack of a signature.

Now, two decades later, she stood on a frozen planet, taking the full brunt of its icy winds directly in the face. She finally understood. Completely.

She had always known that the conflict was between Obi-wan and Anakin. That part was without question. Only now did she realize how deep that conflict really was.

Their bond hadn't broken. Thus, Obi-wan still didn't have a signature. It made sense now.

He had been chosen to train the Chosen One, and as such, he had formed a bond with his padawan just like any other Jedi master would. This bond wasn't like any other bond, though. This bond was much deeper than that; it had roots that were far more difficult to yank out. In forming a bond with Anakin, he might as well have formed a bond with the Force itself, and part of him was now part of the Force as well.

She had always been able to sense him. An easy feat since the Force always lit up whenever he was around. She supposed he did actually have something of a signature, something that was unique only to him, but that "something" couldn't be described or explained, just as her own unique "something" couldn't be explained. It could only be sensed and felt.

His signature was different, though. Different in a way that no other signature was different. His was partial. Half Obi-wan and half Force. There had actually been, and probably still was, a blurry area where Obi-wan ended and the Force began.

Or, to paint a better picture, where Obi-wan ended and _Anakin_ began.

She used to wonder what it would feel like to have a bond with the Force itself, to be able to feel that deeply and connect on such a level as that. Watching him over the years had provided an answer.

Asajj didn't want to know, because she didn't want to be in that much pain.

The darkness hurt. It hurt everyone, even those who didn't actually have a connection to it. Asajj constantly felt it eating at her, slowly peeling away layer after layer of whatever warmth she had ever had until it completely consumed her. Fighting it was a painful process that gave her a continuous headache.

Obi-wan had it even worse. All she had to do was watch him over the course of a day to know that it was not only eating at him, but was also screaming at him, beckoning to him, and blaming him for every last fault that Anakin had committed. He was always blinking away dizziness or sweating profusely. Sometimes both. Before he had disappeared inside of his starfighter, he had actually looked like his old self. His hair had been slightly damp, but his eyes had held a glimmer of the ruefulness she had missed.

Giving himself up, Asajj realized, was probably a relief. No amount of words from her or anybody else were ever going to make that shadow go away. To his depleted conscience, it likely seemed that it never would. So why not join it?

Instead of a constantly trembling Force, why not just ease the suffering and surrender? Why not appease the newly-hatched Sith and end the conflict? Seemed logical.

Asajj slowly lowered herself down until she was kneeling in a foot of soft snow. Obi-wan had given up, something she never thought she would live to see. He had made a noble sacrifice, but in doing so, he had not only stopped fighting his demons, but had also sealed the fate of the galaxy.

It was no longer Obi-wan against Anakin.

Anakin had won. It would be forever dark.

And she would always be cold, always shiver, always hurt, always shudder, always struggle, always blink away headaches, always fear...

Fear. She hated fear.

Asajj didn't want to be afraid of anything. She didn't want to _hate._

"What are you doing out here?"

Luke. Ah yes, there were other people close by. Probably for the best.

"Thinking," she muttered, not liking the way her voice sounded. It had grown hoarse.

Snow crunched and squeaked behind her as Luke walked closer. "About what? It's snowing and it's cold. You can think inside."

A laugh escaped her, sarcastic and humorless. "Well, I could think inside where it's cold and chaotic and thinking doesn't actually accomplish anything, or I could think out here where it's still cold, but not chaotic. And I actually accomplish something."

Luke snorted softly, muffled in the wind. "And what have you accomplished? We're trying to figure out the best way to infiltrate the Death Star, so unless this thinking of yours is something important, we could really use your help."

Asajj finally turned to face him. Only a few feet separated them, but the snow still wasn't allowing her to have a clear view. She tilted her head to the side. "The Death Star is just a toy, nothing more."

There was a moment of silence before Luke expressed his disagreement. "A toy? You're telling me that Vader only built this thing for a source of amusement? That blowing up planets is just a game?"

She shrugged. "Sure. Vader likes to tinker," she said, remembering the word that Obi-wan had used to describe Anakin's hobby that had become something of an obsession. "He likes building stuff. While it may seem like a war machine and a bit of a disadvantage to leave it alone, I really don't think it's that important."

The figure behind the snow gestured in annoyance. "Right. So let's just forget about it and the first time he blows up a planet we'll send him a card to congratulate him on his success..."

Asajj sighed in frustration and stood up. She really was dealing with a bunch of immature younglings. "Forget I said anything. I _obviously_ have no idea what I'm talking about," she retorted as she passed Luke on her way by. She was going to hop in the first starfighter that appeared and get as far from all of these people as possible. Obi-wan might have thought that Luke was Anakin's last hope of turning back, but she certainly wasn't seeing whatever he had seen.

A hand landed on her shoulder and spun her back around.

Luke was glaring daggers at her. "You don't," he practically growled. "We've been fighting this war since we were old enough to shoot blasters. You hop in and join us for a couple weeks and you think you have everything figured out? You have no idea who you're dealing with if you think Vader is just building these superweapons for fun. He's already killed thousands!"

Some very not-so-good thoughts were running through her head, but she restrained herself from voicing them and started to walk away again. "I'm leaving. You and your friends can go destroy Vader's giant ball of doom while I do something productive. Goodbye."

She assumed that would be the end of it.

But no.

"Are you going to try and save Obi-wan? You'll attract the attention of every Imperial soldier out there! No, I can't have you running around space on some foolish rescue mission that will probably get all of us killed."

Right. And the kid thought he was going to do something about it?

She stopped and stood still. "Do you think you're going to stop me?"

"Just because you fought in the Clone Wars doesn't mean you're invincible..."

She pivoted on one foot and ignited one of her weapons all in one motion. The blade was still red. A crimson beam that sang the tragic song of her past in one single note. The glow fell on her face, casting an eerie light over her pale skin. She knew the image was frightening. She had seen it herself in one too many mirrors. "You're right," she stated, causing the youth to frown.

It was a frown that was growing less confident. One that was starting to tremble a little.

"I'm not, and yet you're still afraid. Tell me, Skywalker, how do you think you're going to stop Vader if you're so afraid of a woman who hasn't been a Sith for over two decades?"

Luke hesitated, but then he met her eyes squarely, with only the slightest bit of fear. "Fear is natural. If I wasn't afraid of the dark, I would have surrendered a long time ago."

She blinked.

Luke continued. "And why should I listen to you anyway? You're too afraid of your own shadow to be offering advice on how to avoid the others."

Such blatant truth. It hit her like a blow to the gut. There was still darkness in her from years past, and it was a source of worry in her present. Every day, every waking _minute_, she was pushing it back, not wanting to let it take over again. Yes, she was still afraid of it. The kid was right.

"You're right." _Again. _For a moment she felt like she was talking to Obi-wan instead of Luke.

Luke opened his mouth to say something, but then he seemed to decipher what she had just said. A look of surprise flashed across his face. "I'm... right?"

_Ugh. _She hated admitting this kind of thing. Asajj sighed and pointed her weapon at the snow, half-heartedly melting a pattern into the drift. "Yes. Completely. And maybe that's the reason why I'm having such a hard time right now. Obi-wan was the one helping me through that particular issue, but with him gone it's all coming back now. I didn't have enough time to fully recover from... from..." She trailed off.

Luke took a step forward so they could see each other clearly. "From being a Sith?"

A sudden stab of anger pierced through her thoughts and she turned away again. The kid had no right to know about her past. "Yes, that. Look, there's too much going on right now that no one, yourself included, is going to understand, and I really don't have the time to explain it." Her crimson blade shrank to nothing and she clipped it back on her belt. "Just let me go. It's better this way. You guys can do your thing and I can do mine. Everybody's happy."

"How well did Obi-wan know my father?"

Asajj sucked in a quick breath, hoping the hiss of air between her teeth couldn't be heard above the gale. This was a conversation she had hoped to avoid. "Well enough."

She could feel the youth's eyes on her back.

"So, Obi-wan is just another prisoner then, nothing more?"

_So much more than that..._

She couldn't bring herself to say anything. Just thinking about poor Obi-wan's situation was making her gut twist and her fists clench.

"What don't I understand? What's so important about Obi-wan? I liked him, I really did, but why make such a big deal out of him? How is he different than any other prisoner?" Luke was starting to sound desperate. The pause that followed was thick enough to be cut with a lightsaber. "How did he lose his arm? I mean... I know _how_, but... why isn't he dead?"

_Because they were two halves of the same soul..._

Asajj knew Obi-wan wouldn't approve of what she was about to do next, but he wasn't here, so she was making an executive decision. She gestured towards the hangar where the starfighters waited. "Let me show you."

"Show me? Show me what?"

"How it ended."

"You don't have to show me," Luke protested. "We're in the middle of war in case you haven't noticed, and I don't think it would be smart to just pick up and leave -"

"If you want to win this war, then the first thing you need to understand is that you're not even a part of it yet," Asajj snapped. Then she started walking. "Come on."

"Not even a part - what? You're not making any sense!"

Asajj didn't even glance back. "If you want your answers, then follow me. If not, then have fun fishing for them elsewhere."

Apparently, Luke was over the fishing part, because he didn't hesitate to follow her into the hangar. "This better not take long," he muttered. "Where are we going?"

"Where nobody wants to go."

"Which is?"

_A burst of liquid flame, the hiss of steam, the steady hum of two weapons spitting sparks..._

She swallowed, not sure if she was ready to go there again, but knowing that she had to for Luke's sake.

_A dusty cloud of ash rose in the wake of a falling appendage, one that was no longer attached to the body it had been a part of. A Jedi followed it down, groaning in agony, eyes twisted into an unfamiliar emotion..._

Obi-wan's eyes. They had been so blue.

_Gray eyes, haunted by a painful past, smothered in a mix of betrayal, fear, pity, and hopelessness... the hiss of steam, liquid fire..._

Her hands were trembling, but she didn't stop them. Focusing on the shaking was keeping those blasted images from taking over her mind. She suddenly dreaded what she was about to do. It had been far too painful the first time. Would she be able to do it without Obi-wan?

Was Obi-wan still alive? Did it even matter if she showed Luke?

"Hello? Where are we going? We don't have time for daydreams."

Asajj jerked the hatch open. Obi-wan believed Luke was the key to Anakin, and that was good enough for her right now. It was their only hope, really.

"Get in."

Luke barely succeeded in squeezing his large frame into the space behind the pilot's seat. "I thought you were giving me answers."

"I am, now be quiet." She didn't want to talk anymore. The talking could wait until they got there.

"Where are we going?" Luke repeated, ignoring her request.

The engines started with a low growl which turned into a steady thrum. Within seconds they were airborne.

"Where are -"

"Mustafar."

Silence followed. It didn't help.

Her hands were still shaking.

* * *

_Hope you liked it! Any thoughts, critiques, or words of any kind are very appreciated in a review of some sort! :) Thank you so much to all of you who continue to stick with me on this. I know it's been a long, drawn-out, and sometimes painful road so far, so I love you guys for continuing to read and review! God Bless!_

_A reviewer suggested that Luke be shown the Mustafar fight, and at the time I wasn't really planning on it, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked it, so this chapter and the next are a result of that. We'll have to see where it takes things... ;) Thank you to that person for the idea. _

_"I hope to stand firm enough to not go backward, and yet not go forward fast enough to wreck the cause." ~ Abraham Lincoln_


	20. Mustafar's Sunset

_Next chapter! Yay! I had a hard time writing this one, so i'm not real sure about it, but I decided that if I kept changing it it wouldn't turn out the way I intended. So here it is! Enjoy! :)_

* * *

_It's burning_.

Luke stared at the large planet as their starfighter drew nearer. Despite all that he had heard over the years, he couldn't quite keep away a feeling of surprise. Mustafar really _was_ on fire. Literally.

There were obviously places to land on, small black patches here and there, scattered all over the surface. The rest of it, however, was a knot of twisted strings of lava, little streams and rivers of liquid fire. He only knew this after they were through the atmosphere, a layer of smoke and dust so thick that visibility had been zero from the time they entered and the time they emerged. A feeling of unease began to rise. Was this place habitable? Would they be able to breathe?

"Last time we landed in a small valley, between two hills... I think it was over there..."

Luke blinked at the sound of Asajj's voice and focused on the back of her head. Anything to keep his mind from the desolate landscape below. "How long are we going to be here?"

"Why?" she snapped, apparently just as tense as he was. "Do you have somewhere you have to be?"

Luke patiently pushed back his frustration, though he didn't know how much longer he would be able to do so. This lady seemed to have a knack for getting under other peoples' skin. "Whether you think we're part of this war or not, there is still a giant space station out there capable of destroying the planet we're about to land on, so yes, there are other places to be and other things to be doing." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Why couldn't you have just shown me what you're going to show me back at the base? Why here?"

"If I had just shown you back at the base, then all of those stupid stories and rumors would have distorted the real thing. If we're actually here, then you can see it for what it really was."

She began to take their small ship lower, aiming for a shallow dip between two small hills in the distance. The nervous feeling in his stomach grew stronger. "Which is what?" he asked.

A geyser of steam buffered the left side of the fighter's underbelly and they rocked around for a few minutes before she was able to get it back under control.

"One giant mistake."

She set it down and hit a button. The cockpit snapped open. Mustafar welcomed them with a cheery hiss of steam vents and the wonderful smell of sulfur. Luke choked, struggling for breath. "How... can you... _breathe_?"

Asajj stood to the side, surveying the view, which wasn't much considering they were between two blackened hills. "You get used to it," was all she said before she began to walk.

Luke followed her, still gagging on air that he was sure had just enough oxygen to keep them both alive. They crested one of the hills and started down the other side. Once Luke had finally gotten a small bit of control over his breathing, he took a good look around. The first thing that caught his eye were ruins of some sort of factory in the distance. There were a few large pieces of machinery covered in ash and the remains of some sort of bridge hanging off of a cliff, partially submerged in the molten river below. What looked to have been a larger facility was crumbled and overrun with lava. "Was there some sort of settlement here?" he asked once he finally reached her side. Asajj had stopped at the banks of a small stream.

She looked confused until he pointed out what he was referring to. Then she nodded. "Sort of. There was a mining facility here for a while. From what I've read, the lava here is of a different quality than on other worlds. It's more controllable, easier to handle if the right repulsor settings are used. The minerals in lava are apparently quite useful if you know how to extract them, though I have no idea what for."

Luke was slightly intrigued, everything else forgotten for the moment. "If we were somehow able to get the facility -" He coughed again, a long hacking fit that had him bending over. Once he could breathe again, he straightened up. "Sorry."

Asajj just stared at him.

"But if we could get the thing to work again, do you think we could -?"

She shook her head. "No."

Luke frowned. "Why not? There was obviously _some_ value to what they were mining, otherwise they wouldn't have gone to all the trouble. It has to be useful for something."

Asajj gestured with a wide sweep of her arm. "And what makes you think that anybody would be willing to live here and work here for months at a time? The native population has since died off and the lava fleas they used to traverse this place have gone extinct as well."

Lava _fleas_? A disgusted look appeared on his face at the image that popped into his head. It wasn't pretty. He shook it away. "I'm sure there's a way we could make it work. We manage on Hoth just fine. What makes you think we can't manage in the opposite environment?"

She finally turned to face him, her face smudged from ash. "Can you not feel it? This place is cursed! _Cursed!_ By the very Force itself! Why are you so drawn to it?"

Luke felt nothing. Not _nothing_ nothing. He knew the importance of this place as well as anyone else; the gravity of what had occurred here was not lost on him. Now that he was here, though, on the planet those stories had taken place on, he didn't see what was so bad about it. It was dark, yes. It was violent, sure. But so was Hoth. The constant cloud cover didn't completely blot out the sun, but it didn't exactly welcome it either. It was dark in its own sense, and the winds that ravaged the icy plains were anything but calm. Hoth was dark and violent as well. It also had its good sides.

As did Mustafar, though it seemed he was the only one that saw them.

"I'm not _drawn _to it, really. Just... I don't know... I just don't see what the big deal is."

Asajj sighed, clearly frustrated. She grabbed him by the arm, ignoring his grunt of protest, and drug him to a boulder that looked on the verge of falling apart. Luke silently wondered if she saw how, well, how _crispy_ it looked. She didn't expect him to sit on it, did she?

"Sit," she ordered.

Of course she expected him to. Luke wearily lowered himself down and took a seat, a bit surprised when the whole thing didn't explode in a cloud of ash.

Asajj glared down at him. "I'm going to be honest with you."

Luke almost rolled his eyes. As if she wasn't already so incredibly, bluntly honest by nature.

It struck him that he even had the urge to roll his eyes. Where had the nervous feeling gone? The fear? He didn't feel either of those things anymore, just a sense of something so _right_ that he couldn't explain. Whatever she was about to show him, he knew it was something very, very important.

He glanced down to his waist, at the belt that hung there and the small cylinder that was clipped to it.

_"You're his _son_, Luke... you're the only one that has a chance."_

He took hold of the lightsaber, curling his fingers around it, suddenly understanding what Asajj had been trying to tell him. Obi-wan's fingers had been rough, calloused, _scarred._ Hands born from too much fighting, too much killing, too much worrying. Who knew what those hands had done?

Luke examined his own hands, still soft with barely a few scratches. They were scratches that would heal soon enough. The comparison was obvious. Obi-wan had done so much, lived through so much, and he had failed. So far, Luke had done nothing. Nothing worth recognizing anyway. Just like everyone else, he had been trying to destroy the bad guys in the galaxy, not change them.

Could they even be changed?

_"You're the only one that has a chance."_

His mouth lifted a little at the edges. He knew of at least one man that thought so. One that had believed in him even though he hadn't realized it. Luke felt a sharp stab of guilt pierce his chest. The old Jedi had only been doing what he knew was right, and he was most likely dead because of it.

Luke suddenly had a purpose.

"... and all you guys continue to do is fly around in your little toy ships shooting at imperial soldiers that are nothing but puppets . Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to try and help someone who doesn't want to be helped, even though they need the help? And _you_! You're so kriffin' bright I'm practically blinded every time I try to sense you and yet you haven't the faintest clue of how to control that power! Now I'm finally trying to do what Obi-wan wanted and set you on the right path, and..."

Luke blinked. Was he supposed to be paying attention to this? Oh well. He shifted on his rock, careful not to make any movements that were too sudden. "Can you show me now?"

"... now you want to mine the lava, not even caring what went on here and - what?" Asajj focused on him through narrowed eyes. "Show you? Do you actually care about it anymore, or would you rather discuss the best way to rebuild the scrap yard over there, because as far as I can see - "

"You said I don't feel anything," Luke interrupted. He held her gaze with one of his own. "And that's not true. I do feel something, just not the same thing you feel. I don't know much about the Force, but that's not my fault. I haven't had anyone around to teach me about it or to show me how to use it, but that doesn't mean I don't feel anything." He took a breath and glanced away, smiling slightly when his eyes landed on the small stream they had been standing at. It was oddly beautiful. "I have these _feelings_, I guess. Bad ones, good ones, right and wrong. Some call it a conscience, but it's not a voice in my head, just a feeling. Those kinds of feelings that tell you when you're in danger, or that you should move because there's a blaster aimed at your head. Those kind. I even feel warm sometimes, not just from the weather, either."

Asajj rolled her eyes. "Of course you do. That's normal, even for someone who doesn't fully understand. Any fool who can touch the Force has those kinds of feelings."

Luke didn't bite. "Yeah, but I don't feel cold."

Her brow furrowed. "Cold?"

"Cold," Luke clarified. "Back at the base, you weren't outside just because it was calm, were you. It was still a blizzard out there, windy and loud." He paused. "You were cold inside. And outside, despite the freezing temperatures, it was warmer."

Asajj stared at him, not saying anything, so he went on.

He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. His fingers came away black and gritty. They had been here for a while now, to the point where his own skin was starting to take on the color of the ground around him. "I don't know... I've just never felt the cold that you guys seem to feel, which is maybe why I have such a hard time connecting with the Force. Whenever I feel it, it always feels warm. It's one-sided."

Her stare had grown into a look of disbelief, though Luke swore that he saw a bit of awe at the edges. Was it strange that he never felt cold?

"You... you don't feel the darkness?" she asked, struggling to get the words out. "But how is that possible? Anyone who can feel the Force can feel the dark. Even Obi-wan, who is one of the lightest Jedi I have ever met, was starting to crack around the edges, and you're barely out of your teens! How do you not feel it?"

Luke didn't quite know how to answer her, because he really wasn't qualified in talking about the Force in such a way. He tried his best, though. "I guess I know it's there. There's too much bad in the galaxy to not see it, but... I don't feel it, you know? My mom, well... my adoptive mom - her name was Beru - always said that as long as you know your heart's in the right place, you never have to worry about losing yourself. She said that's what happened to all of the bad people. They lost themselves."

"Lost themselves," Asajj echoed, still wearing a shocked expression.

Luke nodded, not really sure where he was going with this, but knowing that he was somehow getting through to her. "Dark is dark. You can't see in it. You get lost. I figure if I can't find my way in it, why should I even take that step?" He shrugged again. "So I just ignore it."

"You just _ignore_ _it_?" she repeated. "I can't believe you think it's that simple! I spent the better portion of my life living in darkness and you're telling me that I should have just _ignored it_?"

"It's different," he was quick to argue, not wanting to offend her. He had no intention of making the former Sith any angrier than she already was. "I don't know what that was like, and I don't know what it's like for you now, either. All I know is that I wasn't raised as a Jedi, I don't have that deep connection yet, but I do know that edge that I shouldn't cross." He gave her a pointed look. "Sometimes, ignorance is a good thing. Things are different for me."

Asajj turned away and paced back and forth for a few minutes. Luke could feel the frustration rolling off of her, but he didn't say anything. He just let her do her thing. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she stopped and looked at him again. "Have you ever been tempted to cross that edge? Even just a little bit?"

"Isn't everybody?" he asked, feeling a little bit ashamed, but no one was perfect. "My parents. They were, well... they were murdered. By raiders. I was angry, and I almost..." He trailed off and closed his eyes, remembering how terrible that moment had been. He had almost lost it then. He had been so close to going after that band of mongrels. Blue eyes opened. "But I didn't. It wasn't the right thing to do."

Asajj blinked, considering what he had just said. Then she noticed the lightsaber that was still clenched in Luke's hand and her face visibly fell. "Blasted fool..." she muttered. She recovered a little and nodded. "Very well, then. I don't know if you're ready, but it doesn't matter. I need you to close your eyes and send everything away."

Send everything away? What did she mean by that? Luke frowned. "Are you going to show me now?"

She nodded again, taking a seat where she was, apparently not caring about the charred earth. "I'm going to try. Obi-wan did this with me, but he's better at this kind of stuff, so just bear with me. Close your eyes."

Luke closed his eyes. Hisses of steam and the heat of the lava still distracted him, though. What was he supposed to be doing, anyway?

"Let it go, Luke."

"Let what go?" he asked, confused and a little annoyed.

"Everything. The good, the bad, all of it. Just feel the Force."

Luke almost opened his eyes. Her voice had grown softer, less biting, almost comforting. He wondered at the sudden change, but attempted to do what she had said. It took a large amount of effort, more than he liked, but eventually the hisses and heat went away. Eventually all of the thoughts resulting from their prior conversation disappeared. Eventually it was just him and Asajj.

Then he felt it. A warming of every single nerve in his body, head to toe. He couldn't help the grin that followed. He loved it when he felt this way. It wasn't new to him, but it wasn't a feeling he got very often either.

He was surprised when it went further. Without a bunch of thoughts ricocheting off every cell in his brain or the noises from the rest of the world around him, he was able to see what he had been missing for all of his twenty years.

The Force.

It was beautiful, like nothing he had ever seen before. Was he even _seeing _it, really? Was it his imagination?

Something told him it was very real. That all of this light had always been there before and he had just never taken the time to see it. He turned around to face where the river of lava had been.

There it was, in the Force, a deep purple hue swirling with pinks. A sunset in action. Luke felt the urge to cry at the very idea of it. This was a planet where sunsets were never going to happen in the sky, so it almost seemed fitting to find one on the ground, the only other place the sunset could go.

Something made him reach out a hand. He wasn't sure what it was, but he did it anyway. He wanted it to be more than just a purple river on the ground. Sunsets weren't supposed to be restricted to the ground, or even the sky. They were supposed to swirl around and dance. He reached forward, lifted his hand a little.

A strand of purple rose from the river, followed closely by a line of pink. Luke gestured and they began to move, spinning in an orb a few feet above the rest of it. Beautiful.

_Luke._

The two colors fell, or disappeared, rather. The landscape wasn't there anymore, and he had a feeling this was another side of the Force. It looked like space, sort of. Black, empty, with hundreds of stars all over the place, some brighter than others. The largest one was close to him. It vibrated a little at the sound of his name.

_Luke._

It was Asajj, or at least her presence in the Force, anyway. He wondered what his own signature looked like. He would have to ask her sometime.

_I'm here._

There was no answer, but a tendril of light reached out from her signature and headed towards him. He cried out a little when he actually felt it touch him. Not him, but his _mind_. That was a strange sensation, and he wasn't sure he liked it yet.

_You have to let me in, Luke._

But he didn't want to. There was darkness, there, on the edge of it. Lots of emotions he didn't want to feel. Anger, hatred, rage, confusion, pain, sadness, hopelessness. None of them were positive emotions. Nothing good there.

_No._

_Luke... this is what you wanted me to show you. If you want to truly understand..._

He took a deep breath. He had to do this, not only for himself, but for his father. Luke braced himself.

_Okay. I'm ready._

He let it in, let Asajj in. Everything instantly changed. It was as if he had opened his eyes again and they were standing by the same little river arguing about the same stuff, but this time it wasn't just them. There were two more people a little ways off.

They were fighting. With lightsabers. These were Jedi, that much was clear by the color of their blades. It didn't take long to recognize Obi-wan, which could only mean one thing.

Luke stared, mesmerized. The other man, the younger one, maybe only a few years older than himself, the one with blue eyes that were just starting to turn yellow, the source of all of the hatred and rage, the one striking at Obi-wan with the intent to kill...

He opened his eyes. Everything disappeared. Across from him, Asajj blinked, looking at him with a confused expression.

Luke was shivering, his breath coming in gasps. Startled, Asajj rose and rushed over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder but not really knowing what else to do.

Luke closed his eyes trying to push the image out of his mind, but all he could see was his father's face, twisted with hate, and Obi-wan's own face, anguish written all over it.

_"It's... complicated."_

_"You have no business telling me how I should feel when you clearly don't understand how I do feel."_

_"I tried; he just wouldn't listen..."_

_Come and get me, Anakin._

Luke's eyes snapped open. Obi-wan hadn't spoken that last little bit, but then again, he had. Through the Force. To his father. It was the last time Luke had seen him.

"Luke, are you okay? What's wrong?" Asajj asked, shaking him slightly.

Luke shook his head. "I'm fine," he muttered. "You said Obi-wan knew my father well. That makes sense, since he trained him, but they weren't like a normal Master/Padawan team were they?"

"I think you should finish watching the duel. See how it ends," she said in answer.

"No," Luke snapped, a little harsher than intended. "I don't want to see him like that. It's not him."

"Unfortunately, it is," she gently replied. "Everyone has a dark side, Luke."

Luke stood, shaking his head. "He's not dark, just... lost." He huffed in frustration. He didn't come all this way to see his father in such a state. "Show me something good."

"I don't have any memories other than what Obi-wan's shown me."

"But you knew them before he saved you. You fought them."

Asajj hesitated. "Yes, but - "

Luke stared at her. "I want to know Anakin, not Vader. Vader isn't my father."

Asajj sighed in defeat. "Okay...I really only have one thing I can show you, when I wasn't fighting them, just observing."

Luke closed his eyes again instead of replying. This time, he smiled at what he saw. Two Jedi laying waste to an already-wasted droid factory was beyond preposterous.

_"Oh well done, Anakin. Melting your name into that scrap of metal was a nice touch. I'm sure they'll forever remember the man who laid waste to a factory that was already wasted to begin with..."_

_"Is that supposed to be 'thank you' for saving your life a minute ago?"_

_"It was half a droid, Anakin, and it barely moved."_

His eyes opened once Asajj was done. Luke had seen enough to know that his father had once been a good man. A very good man. As well as an overgrown goofball. Perfect.

His eyes fell, once again, to the lightsaber he held in his hand. The one that Obi-wan had tried to kill his father with. A sense of peace flooded his body and he looked at Asajj. The ignition of the weapon came with a steady hum, a foreign sound among the steam vents and churning lava. "Will you teach me?" he asked.

Asajj looked unsure at first, but a few seconds later she unclipped a hilt from her belt, one that was twice as long as Obi-wan's. A crimson beam shot out from each end. She twirled it absently, staring intently at Luke. "Are you sure you're ready?"

"My father is a Jedi, and I intend to follow in his footsteps," he stated, looking her straight in the eyes, daring her to tell him different.

"Then let's get started."

They didn't even leave Mustafar. Luke refused.

Learning how to use a lightsaber was one thing. Being surrounded by streams that contained a living, rushing sunset was on anothe_r_ level entirely. The minute Luke had pointed it out, Asajj had grinned.

Then she laughed.

"It's beautiful."

Luke just smiled. Mustafar wasn't as dark as everyone thought it was.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed it! Please review if you've got a chance! :)_

_Back to Obi-wan in the next chapter!_

_"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." ~ Martin Luther King Jr._


	21. The Dark is Generous

_Back to Obi-wan..._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

The shivering wouldn't stop. Ever. Obi-wan had known this from the start, but his usual stubborn self had refused to believe it. Now he no longer denied it.

It hadn't stopped for three days now. For three days he'd been sitting in a tin can of a cell, shivering uncontrollably to the point where it wouldn't have mattered if he'd wanted to try and escape or not. He wouldn't have been able to try anything.

He was certain Vader knew this. His former padawan was probably watching him right now, from some secret room somewhere, laughing at the pathetic state he had been reduced to. A grown man, in his late fifties - a grown _Jedi_, at that - huddled in a corner, trying to mash himself into one of the walls in an attempt to reacquire some sort of control over his body. Perhaps the wall would be enough of a sturdy presence to help calm the shakes that continued to rack his every nerve.

That was the idea, anyway. Obi-wan hardly cared what the Sith thought of him. He just wanted the constant chills to stop.

It certainly didn't help matters that his injured arm had ceased to function entirely. He could hardly manage to move the fingers attached to it, and if he did it was through a great amount of concentration accompanied by an even greater amount of effort towards forcing back the pain that flared in the nerves he _could_ feel. It hung uselessly at his side.

_Blast you, Anakin. You could have at least extended the courtesy of crushing the other one..._

The durasteel arm was functioning perfectly. Of course.

A slight shift and his frame was able to stretch itself out, legs straight out in front, back slouched in the divot formed by the two converging walls. Not the most comfortable position in the world, but the shivering took away any amount of comfort he might have been able to attain anyway. It was _freezing._

A foot twitched as another round of shivers reached his toes, and he watched it absently, wondering for a second if it was _his_ foot. They had never twitched like that before. He chased the thought away as soon as it had announced itself. _Of course_ it was _his_ foot. Who else's would it be?

"I'm losing it." The hoarse voice that uttered those words couldn't _possibly_ be his... could it? The three words echoed off the walls a few times before they escaped through the bars of the cell. _I'm losing it, I'm losing it, I'm losing it, I'm losing it..._

"I'm well aware, thank you." Another croak. A few more echoes. _I'm well aware, thank you, well aware, thank you, thank you, thank you, you..._ He sighed, noticing with a small amount of relief that at least his sighs sounded normal, if somewhat shaky.

"Your dinner, Jedi," a robotic voice said from across the cell.

Ah, yes. Dinner. One meal a day, always at a different time, always delivered by a mindless machine of some sort. Obi-wan glared at the offered food, almost deciding that this would be the meal he refused to eat, that he would finally force Vader to do whatever it was he intended to do or let him starve to death. The idea had been swimming around in his brain for quite some time. It was all the more tempting simply for the fact that, in a somewhat twisted way, it would save a small sliver of his dignity. Each meal prior to this one had him struggling just to raise a crumb to his mouth. His shaking hands caused everything else to fly off the utensil after it was barely an inch off the tray.

He sighed again. No. That wasn't him. He wasn't going to lose himself completely.

Twitching feet barely allowed him to stand, but he did so, shuffling towards the bars, his good arm shoved against the wall to keep him steady. "Thank you," he mumbled, just to see if his voice sounded less hoarse when it wasn't as audible. No such luck.

The droid didn't reply. It simply turned and walked back the way it had come.

The meal was divine, just like the others. A few slices of some warm bread, a large slab of some sort of meat, a few different fruits sliced up and set to the side. Probably far more than any other prisoner was being fed. Even a small cup of tea stood in the corner, his favorite, right down to the exact amount of spices he liked to add. The smell was proof of that. It was the same smell that had welcomed him and Anakin home from many missions, the one that flooded their nostrils once they opened their apartment door. It was the smell of home.

He never drank the tea. Aside from himself, only Anakin had ever made him tea, usually when he had been sick or nursing an injury. It had meant something, then. Something special.

Vader wasn't Anakin. The tea was nothing. This _meal_ was nothing. He shoved it away from himself with a disgusted twitch of his foot. There was nothing that Vader could offer that he could possibly want.

Except for another chance, but that was up to Anakin. From what Obi-wan had seen so far, Anakin was unlikely to show up anytime soon.

The temptation to throw the tray and all of its contents through the bars of his cell was growing stronger, and he struggled to force it away. It was beginning to trouble him, that these urges were coming quite frequently and that he was almost welcoming them. Three days dwelling in nothing but the dark side of the Force might do that to most Jedi, but Obi-wan hadn't expected it to happen to himself. Not that he was purposely being arrogant, but he'd has his fair share of brushes with the dark side, and he'd overcome every single one of them.

Was this one any different?

_Yes_, something whispered. It took him a moment to realize it was his light-starved brain.

_This one was YOUR fault._

It had taken him close to a decade to finally convince himself that Qui-gon's death hadn't been his fault. That he hadn't slammed his own foot into his face, causing himself to fall off of that walkway. _Yes, but you could have ducked..._ That he hadn't been the one to slam those ray shields in place. _You could have ran faster..._ That he hadn't been the one wielding a double-bladed, crimson lightsaber that day. _It might as well have been you..._ So many doubts. But he'd defeated them, accepted that it was the will of the Force that his father, in every way but blood, had died that day. Ten years, it had taken him.

Then there had been Ventress, tempting him with every evil desire the dark could offer while bombarding his mind and body with a vicious assault of mental and physical torture. That had been the first time he had come close to giving in. Closer than Qui-gon's death, if possible. He still had the scars. Scores of them on his back, ones that had been too deep to heal properly. Ones that had festered for days while she had laughed in his face, offering to heal them if he gave in. She had made it sound so easy. So had his conscience. One more day, and he might have been lost. As it was, the Temple Healers had put so many hours of healing into his battered mind that Anakin had eventually conceded and drug the couch down so he could sleep by the side of his bed.

A new round of chills tore through his body, stopping his musings for the moment. The tray still taunted him from a few feet away.

_You know you want to... it would feel so good..._

_This one was YOUR fault!_

A deafening crash echoed through the hallways and every last cell as the tray struck the bars with a solid crack, splitting into hundreds of little pieces, scattering his dinner everywhere. Obi-wan stared, struck dumb, at his hand. It was still locked in front of him, holding its position long after the tray had risen and been thrown.

It wasn't shaking. His durasteel fingers, every last one of them, were as still as the wall he was leaning against. As was the rest of his arm. Come to think of it, his whole body had stopped shaking. Normally, an improvement like that would have caused a grin to break out on his face.

This time he was stunned. Horrified. "No..." The single word slipped from his mouth at barely a whisper.

He had let it in and used it without thinking. "No." Firmer this time, more confident. He would _not_ lose himself in the dark, not simply for the fact that it existed.

When the chills started up once more he was both supremely satisfied and supremely disappointed, but if having chills kept him from crossing the line, then so be it.

_Come and get me, Anakin._

He closed his eyes, a small smile peeking through his dour mood. Taunting had never been something he had taken a liking to. That had been Anakin's bread and butter, always mouthing off to whoever they were facing while he had stood back and watched. His former padawan had been good at it to, surprising even him with some of the witty remarks he tossed out.

_Come and get me, Anakin._

Not bad for his first taunt. Not bad at all... okay, so it was borderline elementary. He had a feeling half of the younglings could have come up with something classier than that... the younglings...

Obi-wan tried to clench his eyes shut tighter, attempting to smother images of broken and mutilated bodies spread all over the Council Chambers. It was like trying to ignore the fact that his feet were twitching uncontrollably again. He was forced to open his eyes.

Vader stood on the other side of the bars, watching with a cold gaze, one of distant interest. It was the first time he'd visited since they had arrived here. Wherever here was.

Obi-wan glared back, feeling like a rebellious padawan for doing so, but not really caring. He had never been frightened or intimidated by this man before, and this time would be no different.

Vader smiled a little, as if slightly amused, and then glanced at the food splattered on the floor. "Not hungry?" he quipped, and Obi-wan was struck by how much he still sounded like Anakin. When he didn't answer, Vader looked at him again. "It stopped the shivering, didn't it. Did it feel good?"

He couldn't help but look away. It _did_ feel good. Momentarily. He hated himself for it, just as he had when he had sliced Maul in half and watched the two pieces fall down the ventilation shaft. Apparently, he had made very little progress in the last thirty years.

"You liked it," Vader continued. "You won't admit it, but I know you did. The release of all of those emotions, memories... what were you thinking about when it happened? Was it me? Having a few regrets, _master_?"

The tone made Obi-wan look at him again. It was a tone he had heard many, many times after Anakin had been knighted. It was one of contempt, one that said 'I'm not your padawan anymore' or 'you're not all-knowing and you have no idea what I'm feeling and you never cared anyway'. Obi-wan knew the tone well.

He still refused to say anything. He would not be baited.

"Tell me," Vader said, "what is it that made you come after me?"

He said nothing.

"You haven't saved Luke from anything. It will take me all of a day to track him down. He is my _son_, after all."

"You love him." Obi-wan said the words before he was even aware of speaking. Even after he had spoken them, after he had broken his quiet vow to remain silent, he continued to stare into the Sith's eyes, determined to glimpse Anakin somewhere in there. Just a small sliver would be enough to set him at ease.

Vader stopped, turning to face him. "Love him?" He paused and chuckled a little. "Of course I love him. He is my _son_. But you would know nothing of that, because you're a Jedi. Always have been, always will be, all the way through every last bone. Jedi aren't allowed to feel anything. Sith are."

_Aren't allowed to feel anything._ A long, tired sigh accompanied the sag of his shoulders as he leaned back against the wall. Anakin had never truly understood that part of the Code, and Obi-wan knew without a doubt that he never would, no matter how many times he tried to explain it.

A Jedi felt _everything_. Anger, peace, love, hate, the urge to laugh, a tendency to cry, all of it. They just chose to not let it control them, though Force knew that he had struggled with that for every waking minute of his life. He stared at the remnants of his dinner again, struck by how easy it had been to just let go for a second. Then he looked at Anakin.

Anakin, not Vader. Never Vader. He knew that now. This was Anakin all the way through, his brother, his friend, and every bit the son he never had.

That realization made him hate himself even more than he already did. Had he truly done nothing to prevent this? Now it seemed as though he had just stood to the side and let the boy pass by without a care in the world.

"What, no clever remark, no argument?" Anakin snapped. "Figures. You don't know quite what to say when faced with a truth you don't like. That's one reason you're alive, you know. Just so you can see what all of your hard work has done, where all of your misguided beliefs have taken you. Death would be a gift at this point. One that I will not grant you."

Ah, yes. Death. Such a tempting course of action. He had always dreamed of what it would be like to finally pass from this life into the next. It truly would be a gift, he knew.

Death was a gift he would not accept, even if it was offered. He was tired, physically spent and mentally exhausted, but he knew that Anakin hadn't kept him alive to spew accusations even if he insisted that was the reason. Obi-wan knew him too well to believe that.

He wanted confirmation. Someone to tell him that he was right and everyone else had been wrong. Justification for his actions. _This_ was the boy that Obi-wan had raised. A Sith Lord didn't need confirmation or justification, but Anakin did.

The Force still felt dead, his body was still shaking, and Anakin's eyes were still a sickly yellowish-blue, and he truly had nothing else to lose at this point. All that remained was him and Anakin.

To his knowledge, he had never been faced with such a simple decision in his life. It took him all of a fraction of a second to determine his next course of action. To confront what he had never truly confronted before, only ever pushed aside. He'd had plenty of brushes with the dark side before, but to actually stand toe to toe with it was entirely different. The darkness within Anakin had always been there, as had the darkness within himself. It was something he had always been content to just push back and save for later. Now was turning out to be that 'later'.

To have this discussion could either draw his brother back a little or cause his own self to finally surrender. The latter no longer meant anything. His brother was everything, so he met the man's gaze with unwavering confidence.

"Death is a gift of the light," he said. "One that you have no power to give."

Anakin reached forward and pressed something to the right of his cell. The bars were drawn up into the ceiling and his old friend stepped forward, reaching for his belt. Time seemed to slow for the next few seconds. Anakin's boots echoed loudly on the duracrete floors and the hum of the lightsaber coming to life in his hand was low, threatening.

And the weapon was... blue.

Obi-wan blinked, mesmerized until the blade slowly rose to hover near his injured arm. Then he glanced up at Anakin's face.

"I could take your life as easily as I've taken any other," Anakin snapped. "You're a fool to think otherwise."

Obi-wan's expression flattened. "Then what is stopping you?"

Anakin's smile was merciless. "Nothing."

The lightsaber pushed forward, driving straight into his arm and pinning it to the wall. Obi-wan grunted and let out a muffled cry of pain, surprised that he was still able to feel anything in that particular arm. Hot, salty tears began to run down his face once Anakin began to twist it. His breaths were coming in ragged gulps.

The younger man finally withdrew the blade and spun it a little, staring down at his former master with a cold look. "The dark deals in death too, Obi-wan, and I promise you that I can draw it out for as long as I see fit. Months even."

Obi-wan glared up at him. He knew he had nothing to really worry about. The wound was cauterized, it wouldn't bleed much, but the pain was excruciating. His vision was starting to get a little hazy. Nevertheless, his eyes remained locked on the younger man's face. "The end result will be the same."

He sat up a little straighter, ignoring the jolt of pain that swept through his entire body.

"I will die and you will have gained nothing."

"I will have power," Anakin argued.

"You have that now."

"Wealth."

"Of monetary value, perhaps, but that is something my death would not cause."

"Love."

"That," he stated. "Is completely out of your reach."

Anakin crossed his arms, choosing not to acknowledge that one. "Freedom."

"You've always done as you pleased," Obi-wan bit out, not caring that it sounded so harsh. He narrowed his eyes. "Try again."

Anakin's face twisted in frustration, but he didn't say anything. He just stood there fuming.

Obi-wan grimaced at another stab of pain. This one almost caused him to completely lose consciousness. "The dark is generous," he conceded. He barely saw Anakin nod his head in agreement.

"I have everything you never allowed me to have."

"Generosity is complicated," he continued, staying conscious for a few moments longer. "It's true test lies not in what it gives, but what it has yet to give."

Anakin was silent.

Obi-wan took another deep breath, but he couldn't quite keep his eyes from closing. "The dark does not deal in love, Anakin..." His whispers faded into nothing as his head flopped forward to rest on his chest. The rest of the discussion would have to wait.

Anakin watched him for a moment longer, considering his words. Then he crouched down and leaned forward, staring into the man's face, as though Obi-wan could still hear him.

"Neither do you," he muttered.

Then he rose slowly, turned around, and left.

* * *

_Please leave a review if you can spare a few seconds! Thanks again! :)_

_"The test of generosity is not how much you give, but how much you have left." ~ Anonymous_


	22. Nothing and Everything

Anakin/Vader/... he has no clue who he is right now does he? ;) Enjoy!

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_I should just kill him and be done with it._

_It wasn't like he wasn't going to die in a couple of days anyway. That wound was already beginning to fester and grow deeper. In a day's time it would turn into a vicious infection that would quickly shut down his entire body. Without his precious light, he wouldn't be able to fight it for long._

_I chuckled a little bit at that. My former master would have enjoyed the irony of the situation if he weren't so mentally exhausted. Had the man taken the time and effort to really examine the Force in detail, he would see that darkness only existed in places too weak to resist it. Or those willing to let it in._

_Obi-wan Kenobi was not a weak man. Though I would wager that the fool had gone blind in old age. Kenobi's light was as vibrant as it had always been even if it was beginning to fade ever so slightly. He was one of those lone sparks that I had yet to extinguish._

_And death would not do that for me. I knew this, which was why I would not kill him. He must have known this as well, because he was making little effort to fight off the effects of his injuries, seemingly content to sit in his pitiful corner, shivering with his eyes clenched shut._

_I would not kill him because that would be too easy. I had always enjoyed a challenge, and he was the greatest challenge of all. It irked me that I hadn't really gained any ground with that first encounter. Well, I guess I had, but it was in the opposite direction of what I wanted. The next battle of words would have to wait until he was close to the breaking point._

_He needed to know that I wasn't to be trifled with. That he was no longer my master. That I could just as easily kill him as make him suffer._

"Then what is stopping you?"

_He always asked the hard questions. Ones that I thought I had answers to, only to realize later that the answers I provided for him were lies that I'd made up to hide the truth._

_It would be too easy. Killing him would not kill his light. Half-truths, mostly lies. Words to convince myself more than him, something he probably knew. After I'd stabbed him, he'd merely stared at me through half-lidded eyes, daring me to admit the one thing neither of us had ever been able to confess to each other. _

_That I couldn't kill him because I still... still..._

_I glared at the screen, hoping to drill an even deeper hole into him through the security feed alone. I turned from the pitiful scene to catch the attention of one of the soldiers standing guard outside the door. "Lieutenant," I snapped._

_The man jumped a little, but then pivoted so that he was facing me. "Sir?"_

_This man was a boy, barely out of his teens. A very frightened little boy. Had the kid not been forcing himself to stand still at attention, he would probably look like Obi-wan. Shivering beyond control, unable to stop. Shivering out of fear, though._

_Obi-wan wasn't afraid. Never afraid. I would make him feel fear eventually. He _would_ fear me._

_"Sir...?" the boy nervously repeated._

_"Assemble one of the medical units and bring them here," I told him, wondering for a minute if I should issue the order to someone a little bit older. "Give them one of the empty cells to set up a station."_

_The boy's nervous eyes flitted briefly to the screen. To Obi-wan. "But sir..." He stopped, eyes widening at the fact that he'd just begun to object to orders given to him by the most powerful being in the galaxy._

_I stared him down, letting him know that he was walking on very, _very_ thin ice. After a long, palpable pause, I arched a brow. "Yes?"_

_The boy swallowed, but kept at attention. He really was trying hard. "Sir, he's a p-prisoner, sir. Why would you help him?"_

_I rose to my feet and walked over to the kid. "Do you know who this man is, Lieutenant?"_

_He couldn't hold my gaze. Soft, brown eyes focused on the floor. "Yes, sir."_

_"Then you also should know that he is no good to me dead," I continued. "Keeping him alive is not something that he wants. Now, do you have any more questions?"_

_"No, sir." Barely a whisper._

_I glared down at him. "A wise choice. Do not question me again, Lieutenant." When the kid said nothing more, I jerked my head towards the door. "Go. Tell them to bring whatever they need to perform an amputation."_

_His eyes flitted to the screen once more before he left with a quick salute. "Yes, sir." _

_My eyes returned to the screen where Obi-wan had managed to draw his legs up to his chest in an attempt to get warm. The one arm still hung uselessly at his side. It was a ghastly sight, really. The skin around the open wound was turning a nasty shade of red mixed with purple, and some clear, thick liquid was escaping through the opening. The shredded cloth of his sleeve was dirty and stiff with crusted blood, the patterns of the rips and tears matching up with the skin below it that had been sliced to ribbons in places. That crash had done a real number on him. The wound I had inflicted paled in comparison._

_A bone in his hand had snapped. One end was sticking out through the skin. I wondered if he'd even looked at his arm since he'd woken up._

_It had to go. There was no other choice. He would die if he kept the arm._

_And why did I need him alive? Obi-wan knew nothing of importance, nothing related to the Rebels._

_I should kill him. My hand went to my belt, but stopped once my fingers touched the cool metal of the hilt that rested there._

"What is stopping you?_"_

_Nothing, I'd said._

_A lie. Always lies._

_"Lord Vader, we are ready."_

_An older man in a white uniform was waiting expectantly behind me. There was no shivering with him, no stuttering. Just a cold sense of duty._

_"Very well," I told him, nodding towards the screen. "The prisoner in Cell 14-B. His left arm is badly infected. It needs to go."_

_A curt nod and the doctor was gone._

"What is stopping you?"

_I stared at the screen, at Obi-wan. At the man that had ruined my life. _

_What was stopping me from killing him?_

_I turned and walked out of the room. "Everything," I muttered. Everything._

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Please review if you can spare a few seconds! Thanks! :)

"No question is so difficult to answer than that to which the answer is obvious." ~ Gertrude Stein


	23. Just Like That

_Enjoy!_

_"The moment you think you understand a great work of art, it's dead to you." ~ Oscar Wilde_

* * *

Obi-wan hardly registered anything when he came to. The drugs they had kindly pumped into his system had done their job well. Well enough that the last thing he remembered was the blurry image of a man in a white uniform bending over him before he'd finally fallen into unconsciousness once more.

The lights beating down on him from overhead made it difficult to focus, but once his eyes adjusted he noticed that he was still in a cell, though it obviously wasn't the same one that he had been occupying earlier. If not for the crude setup of what was clearly meant to be some sort of medical environment, the cell would have remained similar to the one he'd left: cold and dimly lit with hardly any presence of life at all.

Not that the medical equipment made this cell that much better. _Almost worse,_ he grimly reflected. The presence of such equipment meant that while he was out, some procedure had been done and he had clearly been the object of attention. Judging from the way he felt, whatever they had done had improved his condition, because the constant pain was gone, save for a slight throbbing on the left side of his body...

His arm. He couldn't feel it. There was _something_ there, but it certainly wasn't organic. The throbbing started and ended only a few inches from his left shoulder, and now that he'd pinpointed the exact source of the pain, it only got worse. Obi-wan tried to turn his head, but found that he couldn't. Something was holding it in place.

"Welcome back."

With those words, reality rushed back and he felt a growing sense of dread. Luke, Asajj, the crash, Anakin, his current situation, the condition of the Force... all of it slammed into him like a slap in the face. How could he have forgotten? Must've been the drugs...

_I should be dead._ His first realization. The second being that he wasn't. _How astute..._ An inward roll of the eyes would have been his usual response, but the man that had just spoken to him wouldn't smirk like he usually did.

He heard the man stand up and step to the side of the table he was strapped to. Anakin looked down at him, smirking. At that moment, Obi-wan was tempted to stare back, slack jawed out of surprise, but he forced himself to remain indifferent. It was difficult, considering that no matter how much he wanted to believe that this Sith wasn't his former padawan, he continued to be proven wrong.

Anakin's eyes strayed to where Obi-wan knew his left arm should be. "We haven't added the sensors yet, but you'll be fully functioning by the end of today."

As if that was supposed to be _good_ news. Obi-wan narrowed his eyes. Taking a philosophical approach hadn't really worked the last time he'd squared off with Anakin, only serving to gain him yet another brush with death and another lost limb. In truth, he really had hoped he would die. Fading into the Force had seemed like a better course of action, and he hadn't fought the infection that had begun to spread from his rotting arm to the rest of his body.

It seemed the Force had other plans, ones that he didn't agree with, but that hardly mattered. Brooding over his situation would hardly help anything, and if the Force wanted him alive, then he was obviously meant to do more than just sit in a cell and let Anakin talk at him.

He coolly stared back at the Sith, still silent, but no longer indifferent.

Anakin smirked again and folded his arms across his chest. "Still going for silent defiance, Obi-wan? Predictable. It's not going to work."

"You saved me."

The words caught Anakin off guard and the younger man looked away. "No."

"Oh?" Obi-wan inquired, raising a brow. If he weren't strapped to the table, he would have gestured pointedly. "Then what do you call this, exactly?"

Anakin's familiar features twisted into a vile expression, something between a sneer and a snarl. "_This_," the Sith coldly stated, "is where you die."

The feeling of dread was back, stronger than ever. A prickly chill ran up his spine, and for a moment he thought it might be the Force, but then he remembered where he was. The all-too-familiar shakes started again. He wondered if the Force would ever be warm again.

Still, he refused to back down. His voice was steady when he spoke, despite the shivering. "You aren't capable of killing me, Anakin. You already proved that once."

Anakin smiled, then. A chilling smile. For a moment, Vader was back and Obi-wan was once more overcome with a sense of hopelessness, with the knowledge that no matter what happened next, he would be able to do nothing.

"You're wrong," was the haunting response. Vader stared down at him a moment and then began to circle the table, like some sort of predator. "Wasn't it you that taught me that physical death means nothing in the grand scheme of things? That you can kill the man without killing the body? I never really got over the fact that you knew stuff like that. The Order's perfect Jedi, a man that stood for all that was good, the selfless hero." Vader stopped and looked at him again, a satisfied smile playing over his lips. "Destroy the will and you kill the man. Shocking words from a man like you, though I'm glad I remembered them." The smile disappeared. "I'm going to kill you, Obi-wan. I'm going to kill you over and over again and you will be able to do nothing."

The Force screamed in protest. Obi-wan hadn't felt such agony even during the horrors of the purge. It caused his spine to go rigid and his whole body to go numb. Something terrible was about to happen. Even in its darkened state, The Force was shrieking, withering.

Vader took no notice. He merely laughed. "Never thought I'd see the day when the great Obi-wan Kenobi was struck cold by fear."

"Anakin don't..." he pleaded, trying to stop the Sith from whatever he was about to do. He'd never seen the man like this. Anakin had always been an expressive person, but this was taking it too far. Too far in the wrong direction, and it downright terrified him.

Vader didn't pause. He pivoted on one foot, grabbing a small device from his belt. A screen on one wall of the cell hummed to life with a flick of his wrist. "Here's what's about to happen, _master_," Vader began. "You are being held on the Death Star. When it's finished, it will be the size of a small moon, having enough mass to create its own gravitational forces. That planet on the screen there... well, that's Alderaan, as you very well know..."

_Force have mercy... his old friend didn't know..._

Obi-wan was struggling now, rocking back and forth on the table, pushing at the restraints with every ounce of strength he could muster, torn between telling the Sith who, exactly, resided on that planet or keeping the information a secret. If Vader knew, he would surely go after the child.

_"My wife and I will take the girl. We've always talked of adopting a baby girl."_

"...has a hypermatter core, capable of converting hyperspace energy into destructive particles that..."

_"She will be loved with us."_

The Force swirled around him in a chaotic hurricane, driving at him, beating at him. He decided he didn't care what the consequences would be. Drawing on the dark side of the Force was the least of his worries at the moment. He closed his eyes and stilled. The Force surged towards him, a deafening roar to any who could hear. Obi-wan drew on it and used it, manipulating the locks that held him in place and using it to strengthen his weakened muscles. For a split second, he was surprised to find that it was warm and responsive, not cold and sickening like it had previously been.

Then he was moving, a blur of heavy cloth, flesh, and metal lunging towards the Sith Lord pointing at the screen.

Perhaps it was the unexpectedness of his actions that prevented the Sith from reacting like he normally would, or maybe Vader was just out of practice. No matter what it was, Obi-wan didn't stop to consider. He drove into Vader with his shoulder, forcing him back into the wall with the Force enhancing his momentum.

Vader grunted at the impact and a web of cracks snaked out from the spot where he'd made contact.

That was as far as Obi-wan got. In the next instant, Vader's own metal appendage was flying towards his face. He tried to raise his left arm to redirect the blow, but he realized only too late that his left arm wasn't functioning quite yet. Metal met his jaw with a loud crack and he jerked backwards.

The _snap-hiss_ of an ignited lightsaber erased any thoughts of a counterattack. Obi-wan straightened and faced the Sith squarely, struggling to control the desperation he was currently feeling. He continued to look into the yellowish eyes even though he could feel the tip of the blade start to burn through the cloth near his chest. "Please, Anakin, don't -"

"_Fool_," Vader spat. "Surely you know how pointless that was. I expected better from you. Maybe a convincing lecture on the disadvantages of blowing up an entire planet. It probably would have worked, too, knowing you. Back in the day, you could charm a womp rat off a cliff if you wanted to." He shifted, lowering the blade ever-so-slightly. Turned his attention back to the screen. "These people will die because of your actions."

Obi-wan reached out a hand, took a step forward, and then winced when the blade whipped up to slice him on the cheek. "Anakin, they're innocent! They've done _nothing_!"

"And yet they will still die!" Vader roared. "Because men like you don't understand the fallout that your actions cause. That your _failures_ cause." He paused. Fire danced in his eyes, threatening to escape at any moment. "_I_ am your greatest failure, Obi-wan. You just didn't care enough."

The last was said almost in a whisper, but Obi-wan paid it no mind. "Can we just talk about this?" he begged. "You don't understand what you're about to do -"

"Of course I don't," Vader spat. "Because _you_ understand _everything_. You've always believed that. I was never right in your eyes." He raised the device that he still held in his hand. "Here's what _you_ need to understand, _master_. Sometimes, no matter what you do, things are taken from you. Things that are very important to you. Things that matter to you."

"Anakin, just stop for a minute - "

"No!" Vader seethed. "You are listening to me right now. And you _will_ understand that this is what you put me through. You took everything. My mother died, because you refused to allow _attachment_ in my life."

"Anakin -"

"What you didn't and still don't understand is that for some people, most people in fact, attachment is an important part of their life. But you never understood that, because you'd never experienced it."

''I had _you,_ Anakin!"

Vader laughed, a sickly sound. "Right... just like you had Qui-gon, a father to you in every sense of the word. Yet as I watched you at his funeral, you didn't shed a single tear. If that's supposed to be love, then who are you to lecture me on such a concept?"

Obi-wan never thought words could hurt that much. "Anakin, I... I..." his voice faded in a stuttering mess. No, he hadn't cried. Hadn't been able to, really. Qui-gon had died in his arms, and he'd shed every last tear as he'd held him.

His shoulders sagged, desperation quickly disappearing to be replaced by defeat. This is what it was all about. Where he'd failed. That revelation hurt him more than anything ever could. That he hadn't loved _enough_. He had loved this man with every last cell in his body, and it still hadn't been enough.

"I... I tried, Anakin..." he stammered. _Do, or do not. There is no try._

Vader coolly stared back at him, his face every bit as stony as it had ever been, though his eyes were like brimstone, hissing and steaming uncontrollably. "You can't argue with the _truth_, master," Vader said. "The _truth_ is that the Jedi were wrong about everything. They were wrong, and I was and am proof of that, but just like the arrogant fools you were, you Jedi ignored me. You continued to deny that anything was wrong, that I was living the happy-go-lucky life that everyone assumed a Jedi lived." He took a step forward. "It was all an illusion. You were duped by your own ignorance. First, I lost my home. Then I lost my father, _your _father. Then I lost any chance of ever learning how to love, because love was forbidden to a Jedi. After that, I lost my mother."

Vader trailed off, but Obi-wan didn't take the opportunity to defend himself. He felt numb. Distant. Was this the truth? Was Vader right? Was _Anakin_ right? This also was an illusion, that Vader returned every time he refused to believe it was Anakin standing in front of him. Always Anakin. Never Vader.

"Then Padme came along, and I had a chance," Vader - _Anakin_ - continued. His fiery gaze met Obi-wan's once more. "Tell me, _master_, is it true love if you're afraid to let anyone see it?"

A piece of Obi-wan broke right then and he looked away, unable to hold his former padawan's gaze any longer. It was the first time he'd ever looked away.

"You see, master, the truth is that I never had the chance to live because of you and your Order. I lost my right to live like a man should be allowed to live, and I wonder how you could ever bear to live like that. It disgusts me." Then he finally looked at the screen again. The Force rippled in warning. "I lost everything I ever had or could've had. You will never be able to understand how I felt, but I think that maybe a small demonstration will help. I spent close to two decades by your side, and one thing I learned was that you coveted nothing. Your selflessness is a weakness, Obi-wan, because even though you don't want anything for yourself, you can still lose an awful lot. You care too much." Anakin paused. "Ironic, considering you never cared enough when it came to those closest to you."

The words bit into him like knives that had been forged in the bowels of Mustafar. They almost rendered him speechless, until he remembered. "You can't, Anakin! Your -"

"You can do nothing," Anakin said. "Billions of lives. Gone. Just like that." His hand rose. Time slowed.

_"Leia." A whisper of a name, spoken by a dying mother..._

Obi-wan lunged, reaching for the small remote, ignoring the hot blade that slid against his side. His left arm still hung uselessly at his side, but the fingers of his right hand managed to latch onto Anakin's wrist and he squeezed, willing the hand to open and the remote to fall.

Time sped up again and in a fraction of a second Anakin thrust him aside. "_Anakin, no!" _Obi-wan cried out, even as he fell. "Your -!"

Anakin stared down at him, blank-faced and motionless. Except for his thumb, which pressed down. "Just. Like. That," he quietly repeated. The tiniest of smiles turned the corners of his mouth up. "Boom." A whisper, nothing more.

"- _daughter!_" She was gone. Obi-wan sat on the floor. Watched the green energy of the laser race towards Alderaan, towards billions of people, towards the little girl he had helped welcome into the galaxy.

And then there was a flash and Alderaan was gone.

~~OOO~~

Luke screamed first, unaccustomed to such pain. He was seated behind Asajj as they were flying back to Hoth. His screams didn't stop for the better part of an hour.

Asajj merely sat there, guiding the ship through the black emptiness of space. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, but she made no sound. She only sat there, listening to millions of people cry out in terror over and over again. They echoed long after she knew they had died. They surrounded her from all sides, over and under; she felt and heard them in every blasted midichlorian that ran through her bloodstream. "Why?" she muttered, but Luke's screams easily drowned it out.

When they arrived, Luke was motionless in the back, a blank look on his face, silent. When she popped the hatch, he didn't even attempt to get up and she left him there. When she returned twenty minutes later, he was still there, staring straight ahead at nothing, eyes red and puffy, tear stains streaked on his cheeks.

A few minutes later, he stood up, rigidly climbed down and walked past her without a word. She couldn't tell him. She wasn't strong enough.

When he was gone, she finally broke down, sobbing into her hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, so sorry..." Asajj repeated the words over and over again.

~~OOO~~

Anakin's face visibly cracked. The visage of a Sith shattered into the broken features of the boy Obi-wan had long thought lost. "My... my... what...?" the boy stammered. His lightsaber fell, the blade disappeared, and it struck the floor and rolled. Obi-wan watched it until it stilled, and then he continued to stare at it, unable to look at anything else. He stayed where he'd fallen. The shrill cries of Alderaan's natives had only lasted a fraction of a second, and yet he still heard them. He heard them with his entire being. Felt the sudden loss as they blinked out of existence.

A shudder racked his body, and he closed his eyes, bowing his head. He'd failed. _Again._

"What did you say?" Anakin asked again.

"Your daughter." He wasn't even aware that he'd spoken the words, but he heard them. There was no inflection in his voice, no up or down, just steady. Neutral.

Anakin was silent, but Obi-wan could feel the Force grow tight with coiled rage. He knew what was coming next.

"You killed her!"

Then he did look Anakin in the eye. Right as the blade ignited itself and flew back into the younger man's hand. He paid no attention to the weapon. "No, Anakin," he said quietly. "You did."

"_No," _Anakin said, clenching the hilt in a white-knuckled grip, his expression clearly one of denial. "I don't have a daughter."

The inner turmoil of raw anger and guilt suddenly washed over Obi-wan and he narrowed his eyes, unable to control himself. He'd never felt so lost. "A few seconds ago, that would have been a lie," he bit out, before standing and walking over to the bars of the cell. He stared through them and through the cell across from him. He stared at nothing, because inside he was a mess.

He absently reflected that Anakin hadn't stabbed him in the back yet, a startling observation, one that caused him to turn around.

Anakin hadn't moved. His arms hung limp at his sides and his eyes, twin orbs of simmering rage at one point, were fixed on the black screen hanging on the wall. They were blue, matching the blade that was still the same color for reasons Obi-wan didn't know.

The Jedi took a step forward, all anger fading into overwhelming sadness and concern for the broken man before him.

Anakin jerked away when the hand landed on his shoulder. "_Don't touch me_," he hissed.

Then he left, leaving Obi-wan to once more stare straight ahead at nothing.

A black screen stared back, speckled by the faint light put out by billions of stars.

* * *

_Sorry it took so long, but hopefully it was worth the wait... please review if you have the time! Thank you for reading! :)_


	24. Chasing Shadows

_UPDATE! I hope some of you are still out there and if you are, I must beg your forgiveness for the obscenely long wait. And thank you so very much for your wonderful patience. My hope is to get this story going again on a somwhat regular basis, but I'm not going to make any promises at this point. Thanks again for sticking around! :D_

* * *

_She wondered if he knew. All those times they had fought and tossed verbal assaults at one another surely hadn't been forgotten. It was this man that she encountered the most and she sometimes wondered if he was chasing after her too._

_He wasn't dead, but he was close. The explosion couldn't be seen on his flesh, but she could sense his muted pain. Muted because he wasn't conscious at the moment, but the pain was still there, flaring bright every few moments as his heart struggled to keep its steady beat. The force of the explosion had clearly moved his insides in a way that they weren't supposed to be moved._

_He had never appeared so broken before. Never so... weak. And still he was bright. Bright in a place that had only ever brought darkness and pain to those that dwelled there. She envied him. She had always envied him, but never so much as that moment._

_And she truly wondered why, because this man would most likely die from his injuries if not from what he would endure in the coming days at her hand. Even as her droids dug his beaten body from the rubble and slung him around like a bag of trash, she followed hesitantly._

_Then she wondered why she hesitated. She had always chased after him, driven by a longing she didn't understand. Why, when he appeared in his weakest state, broken and bloody, did she suddenly become afraid?_

"Ventress?"

Asajj blinked, slowly coming back to reality. For a second it occurred to her that it really wasn't much better here than it was in her dark and morbid past. "Yes?" she inquired, leaning back in her seat, very much tempted to shut her eyes and drift off again.

"This is a somewhat important matter and I think I can speak for everyone here in saying that we would greatly appreciate it if you would try and pay attention."

She leveled her gaze at the man. Commander... Rieekan, was it? Yes, that was it. One of many names on this base that she had a hard time pronouncing. She had interacted with him only a couple of times, the first being when they had arrived at the base, the second only in passing. He seemed decent enough, though he was far too serious for her taste. Not that her opinion mattered much. To anyone here, really, except for maybe Kyle and Luke and some of the other Rebels that had arrived with them. To Rieekan, though, and the rest of the soldiers residing here she was viewed as just another relic from the Clone Wars. Used, drained, and no longer of any use to them.

Which had been fine with her up until now. She wondered why she was even part of this little meeting in the first place if they didn't care to hear her opinion earlier.

"Ventress."

She blinked. It seemed she was drifting again... "I'm sorry, what?"

Rieekan held her stare with one of his own, hard and unyielding. "Vader. Luke claims you've fought him before and may be able to help in strategizing an attack on the Death Star."

Asajj dared a quick glance at Luke. The boy was sitting a couple seats to her left and hadn't said a single word since this meeting was called. Right now he was studying the top of the table, eyes riveted to a single chip near the edge. She could still feel his shock even though Alderaan had... disintegrated... a while ago.

Asajj turned away from him and slowly gazed around the table, taking in the other three seated with them. Aside from Rieekan, there were two other Rebels whose names she didn't know, but she assumed they were important in some way. Then there was that guy named Wes sitting at the far end of the table. Asajj still wasn't ready to trust him yet.

She finally made it back around to the commander and frowned. "I believe you've been misinformed, and that's no fault of Luke's. I fought Vader back in the Clone Wars when he was still a Jedi and I was still doing some not-so-wonderful things of my own. He is not the same man today that he was then. If you're looking for information about Vader, I'm afraid the only man who has any for you is probably either rotting away in a cell or already dead. I have nothing to offer you."

There was silence for a few moments.

_She watched him flinch with every crack of the vibrowhip, watched him sag against the chains that held him up. Outwardly, she forced an expression of pure satisfaction, one a Sith would wear. His pain and helplessness should have brought her a sense of pleasure._

_His eyes rose to meet hers, and she smiled. "No one knows you're alive, Obi-wan. Your precious Order has abandoned you."_

_The pain was too much and he dropped his head again, flinching as the whip sliced into his back once more. But her smile had faded. Those eyes had seen past her dark facade._

_He knew._

Then Rieekan crossed his arms. "You were a Separatist."

"I'm surprised you didn't recognize my name," she bit out, growing tired of being interrogated. She just wanted to leave and be done with it.

"I was young during that war and didn't often fight on the front lines. Only towards the end of it did I start to see any serious action, and by then you must have faded off the map."

Asajj dropped her gaze and traced a lazy circle on the table. "Why am I here, commander?"

The man let out a long sigh that he had obviously been withholding. "You're Force-sensitive," he said, as if the answer should have been obvious.

At that she did laugh, a short and bitter chuckle. "I'm afraid that doesn't make one lick of difference."

"You have a better chance against Vader than any of us do. You're - "

"We were attacked before we arrived here, _commander_," she interrupted, no longer grasping enough patience for a conversation that was going to get nowhere. "By Vader and a few other Imperial pilots. While he ripped our fighters to pieces, all I could do was cower in a transport shivering because it was so _cold_ I could hardly stand to breath. The only other one of us capable of facing him was chased back to the planet we left and we haven't seen him since. It was _cold_ and Vader was making it cold by simply _being there_." She stared at him for a short second and then stood up. "And in case you didn't notice, he just destroyed an entire _planet_ with an experimental weapon still in the process of being built. I'm tired, I'm confused, I've almost reached my limits, and most of all I am afraid."

It took only five steps to reach the door and no one stopped her. Asajj pushed the lever down and winced at the loud creak the door released when she pulled it open.

"That was my planet, you know," Rieekan stated, just loud enough for her to hear. "We're all hurting here."

She glanced back, surprised. "You're from Alderaan?" she whispered.

Rieekan held her gaze as he slowly nodded. "Will you help us?"

Asajj blinked, trying to hold back the dam for a little while longer. "I'm sorry," she said, "but I can't."

Then she left.

_"What are you hanging on to?" she asked. "You've lost everything!"_

_The man was slumped in the corner, covered in bloody rags that had once been his Jedi robes. His lips were dry and cracked, legs cut and bruised, feet swollen from the beatings her droids had dished out. Dark bags hung under eyes that could barely open. She knew he hadn't slept more than a few minutes since she'd captured him._

_Her words fell on deaf ears. "What can you possibly hope to gain?" she muttered._

_Predictably, she received no answer._

She wandered aimlessly down the empty hallways, one hand on a cold wall, worried that if she let go she might fall down.

_"I give you a day, Jedi." She was beyond threats at this point, and her voice was a clear indication of that. Cold, yes, but empty. It was a fact, not a threat. The man would survive for barely a day more, if that, and then he would succumb to the effects of countless hours of torture._

_It was that, or surrender. Jedi were mortal beings just like everyone else, even if this particular one happened to push the limits of mortality farther than most. He would not win. Not this time._

_She lowered herself to a crouch so that he wouldn't have to raise his head that far to meet her eyes. It proved to be a wasted effort. The man couldn't find the strength. "Pathetic," she spat. "I had hoped you would provide me with more of a challenge."_

_Still, he did not attempt to look at her. The only movement was a subtle one, the parting of lips. _

She stopped and the echo of her footsteps went on for a little longer before fading around the next corner. The lighting was dim, making for long shadows that all seemed to blur together into a single, inky cloud. The closest light was only a couple feet in front and above her. She turned, glancing over her shoulder.

Her shadow was close and distinct, smaller than the others. And oddly, it was comforting...

_"You're scared." The voice was strong, unencumbered by vocal chords worn raw from screams caused by the constant beatings he had taken. It was unexpected._

_"By you?" she retorted, smiling a little. "You must be delusional."_

_Still, he did not raise his head, and she knew he could not. It must have been all he could do just to talk to her. "My shadow."_

_Her breath hitched and she unwillingly choked._

_His chest rose in a steady rhythm and his eyes were closed. He looked asleep, but the Force said otherwise. It was drawn to him, what little light existed in this place. She rose to her feet, suddenly wary of the broken man across from her. "Your shadow is what I want," she argued. " Today, it is the dark that wins."_

_"And that is what you fear," he said, voice starting to tremble a little. Talking was taking precious energy away from him. "You're afraid of my shadow, because my light gives you hope."_

_And she laughed. It's what her master would have done when faced with such senseless logic, and it was what she would do now, because right now she was a Sith. "Light is temporary, as is hope. They cannot last. Day always fades to night as the sun lowers to leave the sky dark, the way it always has been, just as hope fades into reality. Both are of the imagination. You strive for nothing."_

_" Do I look temporary to you?"_

_"You look defeated," she spat, suddenly angry. "And soon you will be dead, another star that will have perished."_

_"And what light will you chase after then, my dear? Anakin perhaps?"_

_"He's not worth it," she said, disgusted with the mere thought of the boy._

_"Why the obsession with me, then?"_

_"I'm not obsessed..."_

_"_You_," he interrupted. "Are my shadow." He took a deep, shuddering breath and fell into unconsciousness._

She took a step forward and her shadow drew closer to her, fading in the presence of even this little light. Even here, his words seemed to ring true even if they had been said over two decades ago. All alone, lost in a dimly lit hallway, basking in the small glow, Asajj lowered herself to the floor and leaned back.

Then she wept.

~~OOO~~

Luke watched the tremor in his hands continue. It hadn't stopped since the explosion. The worst headache he had ever experienced was still pummeling his temples with a deafening beat and the only thing he could fully comprehend at the moment was that he was in a lot of pain and he didn't know why. The four men sitting at the table were in a heated argument and he heard none of it.

Literally.

He couldn't hear a thing. Just a ringing sound that every once and a while was joined by the still present sound of millions of people dying at once. In the back of his mind, deep into his conscience, there was a dreadful, burning feeling of separation. As if there had been a connection between him and Alderaan, one that he knew nothing about.

He shook his head, trying to ebb the pain and clear his thoughts. A look around the table made him blink in confusion. Asajj had been with him, hadn't she? Had he missed something important?

He suddenly felt panicked as he searched the small room. She was nowhere. Gone. Vanished. Her presence had been the only thing keeping him sane and now he couldn't feel her anywhere.

He shuddered for perhaps the millionth time as another wave of screams flooded over him. Luke cringed, grinding his teeth together in an effort to feel something else, hear something else. His fingers dug into the wooden table and he focused on the crack again, studying the way it zigged and zagged towards the edge in a jagged mess of turns. The way it fell just an inch too short of its destination.

The story of his life.

He fought back the temptation to snap the table the rest of the way and closed his eyes instead. The screams grew louder, bringing a maelstrom of unwanted memories with them...

The first time he'd accidentally touched the Force, sending a glass across the room at the tender age of four. The way it had shattered against the walls of their home. The way his mom - _adopted_ mom - had turned to stare at him in shock, almost afraid...

The second time he'd done it, enforcing his will without meaning to... he'd just really wanted that snack. The way his _adopted_ dad had snapped back into focus, turning angry in a split second. But not at him. Or her. Never at them...

The five-year drought when their vaporators had stopped working. The time she had almost died...

The first time he'd ridden a swoop bike. The freedom he'd felt in doing it...

The day he'd left them, determined to make a difference, to save lives, maybe to make something of himself, find out why he was so different...

The first life he'd taken...

The message that told him he was officially alone, that he had no living relatives left...

The day he lost count of how many Imperial soldiers he'd killed...

The day Kyle almost died...

The months of running, of planning, of hoping...

The first moment he saw a live Jedi and not a dead one...

And then those words. Only one word, actually, after he'd asked that question.

_Yes._

Three more.

_I'm not lying._

Then Obi-wan had left with him yelling yet another accusation after him. A bad ending to their short friendship to be sure. Luke wasn't sure it could have ended any worse, though thinking back on the firefight only hours later, he realized just how bad a friendship really could end.

He'd watched the two men duke it out from his wounded fighter. At first he'd been muttering an endless string of curses at the man who'd denied him such an opportunity. Only once he'd run out of curse words did he grow silent and begin to watch what was occurring outside of his small ship. The two fighters had grown small quickly as they headed back towards Yavin 4, but the way both fighters were moving... Luke had never seen anything like it. Not to say that it hadn't been done before. He'd met countless pilots, many of whom could probably perform such moves.

No. It was the way both pilots anticipated the other. It was like watching a dance, almost. One leading, the other following, and both knowing how it would eventually end. Luke had realized at that moment just how well Obi-wan had known his father. Only a man who had known him well would have been able to survive an encounter like that.

Now that one man, the one with all the answers, was rotting in a cell somewhere or worse. And he was here, alone. Left to make something of this mess he had been presented with.

One thing was clear, though. Mustafar had a sunset. A beautiful, magnificent sunset. One with purples, yellows, oranges, and pinks flowing over the entire planet. Hidden beauty. His father had died there, figuratively speaking. Was that supposed to mean something, bear any significance?

Luke actually smiled, snapping out of his daze at the same time. _Yes..._

"What if we went in here?" Captain Cluwe was in the middle of suggesting. He was pointing at Wes' stolen plans that were now spread over the table, pieced together like a puzzle. The other three were in various stages of emotion. Wes looked confused. The other man, Captain... Traan, maybe... stabbed a finger at another area, clearly about to argue. Rieekan looked about ready to burst into some fit of something. Tears or rage. Luke couldn't decide. He was obviously desperate for something to happen, though.

"Too open," Traan stated, finger stuck on the opposite end of the Death Star. "Here would be better, more cover..."

"Why don't we just go in, guns blazing, and try to blow the thing into a million pieces?" Wes mumbled, still looking a bit puzzled.

Rieekan shook his head. "Not enough firepower, especially when we're up against a weapon the size of a small planet."

"_That's_ what I'm saying," Cluwe snapped. "I think this hangar is our best option of entrance. We infiltrate, try and get in unnoticed, disguised or something..."

"Are we bent on destroying this thing or saving our man?" Luke blurted, causing all four heads to snap his direction, surprise written all over their faces. Luke still had a minor throb in his head, but his newfound determination was keeping it at bay. He needed to get to his father somehow. "What? Did you forget I was over here?"

Rieekan spoke first. "He's _your_ man, not ours. Besides, the way you described your encounter with Vader, it seems as though this man intended for it to be a suicide mission. He obviously knew what he was getting into."

"He's my _friend_," Luke snapped, "and I would like to attempt a rescue rather than something that would get him killed instead."

"How do you know he's even still alive?" Traan asked, sounding annoyed. "At this point, he's probably already been killed if he survived the fight with Vader. That thing just destroyed an entire planet! We can't risk keeping it intact for the sake of one man's life!"

Luke glared at the captain. "And what are we going to do to possibly destroy it, hm? Throw, what, maybe a small _squadron_ of fighters at it? Compared to the defenses they probably have on that thing, us attacking it would be like a few stings on the arm. We wouldn't even make a dent."

Traan had no argument, Cluwe was frowning, Rieekan was studying the layout, searching for a hidden entrance they hadn't seen yet, and Wes no longer looked confused. He was staring at Luke with an interest that hadn't been there previously. "Why do you care so much about this one man?" he asked quietly.

Luke hesitated. "It's complicated..."

Wes continued to study him, but Rieekan waved his hand dismissively. "It's of no concern at the moment. Something obviously has to be done, but we need help. Trae, contact the three closest bases and ask for immediate assistance. We need to get this thing rolling."

Cluwe rose with a firm "yes, sir" and headed for the door. The commander gestured at Captain Traan, but the door opened at that moment and a younger man poked his head in. "Sorry, sirs, but we've just received a transmission from a ship just outside of our atmosphere. I think you should come and speak to them."

All heads turned towards the door. "Did the person give a name?" Rieekan asked.

"Yes, sir." The soldier hesitated. "He said his name is Bail Organa, from Alderaan."

~~OOO~~

"Asajj?"

By that time, her tears had gone from sobs to intermittent sniffling, but the weight on her shoulders didn't feel any lighter. She still felt lost. After wiping her face with her sleeve she lifted her head to look at whoever had spoken her name.

Kyle stood above her, his shadow enveloping her huddled form. "You okay?" His voice was gentle, comforting.

Asajj tried to offer him a smile, but it came across a little shaky. "Yeah, I think so. Just struggling with old memories."

"Of Obi-wan?"

She looked away, down the hallway he had come from. "Who else?"

Kyle stood a moment longer and then lowered himself down across from her. "Listen... we need to get him out of Vader's hands. There's been a whole lot of talk about destroying the Death Star and if that's where he is..."

She sighed. "I know. I've heard, but it's a suicide mission either way. We try and rescue him, we're dead. The rebels try and destroy the Death Star, they're dead. It doesn't matter."

"It does."

His words surprised her and she turned back to stare at him, wondering what had possessed him to come to that conclusion. "How?"

He smiled and the corridor seemed to grow lighter. Only then did she realize that it was his presence in the Force invading the darkness, washing over her in a warm cloud, enveloping her. She shivered at the feeling.

"Laughter. Joy." He paused, tilted his head to the side to give her a serious look. "Love, even. It's what Vader wants, to a greater degree than Obi-wan needed."

"What do you mean?" she wondered, trying to see where he was going with this.

Kyle clasped his hands together and leaned against the wall. "That other day, out in the woods, Obi-wan asked for my help. I could barely focus on the Force, much less sink into it, but he seemed to think I could take his darkness away from him."

Interesting. "So, what did you do?"

A soft smile lifted his features. The corridor grew warmer still, almost making her smile as well. "We sat down and closed our eyes. He called it 'meditating' I think. It took us a while to drift off, but eventually I could see him." Kyle's smile dropped. "It wasn't pretty, Asajj. He was struggling. It looked like he was being torn apart, actually. Little pieces of light being ripped off here and there. Not a lot, but enough to break him if it continued for much longer. The first time I tried to go in didn't work."

"And the next? Did you hurt him?" she snapped.

Kyle shook his head. "No. There was no second time. I watched him for a little bit and then I started laughing."

"Laughing?" Asajj echoed. _Laughing?_

"Yeah, at the sheer idiocy of the dark. I mean, have you ever seen that guy in the Force? _Felt_ him? It's like staring at the sun, only this sun is soft enough to see. I couldn't see how the dark could ever hope to break him down, and honestly, I couldn't believe he was so beat down already."

Asajj stared at him, still processing. She had seen and felt Obi-wan's presence countless times and had noticed its brilliant light. She had often thought the same about him, but the last few months had changed that. He just hadn't been the same.

He _laughed_? "You laughed," she repeated, still puzzled as to how that could change anything.

Kyle smiled again. "It killed his memories. Maybe not completely, but it killed their shadows. He stopped breaking apart. It fixed him, at least a little bit." Then his smile widened. "But the best part was when we were leaving, and he was thanking me, and then he got this far off look in his eyes..." Kyle trailed off as if remembering something. "I remember his name being whispered. I could hear it, but I didn't know where it was coming from. It was weird. Then he looked at me again and told me his little boy was calling to him. Anakin..." He gave Asajj a meaningful look. "Vader."

"How did you figure it out?" she asked.

"It didn't take much. They obviously have a connection just judging from what I've seen. But that's not the point. The point," Kyle clarified, "is that Vader - Anakin- called to him. He misses something. Maybe it's not the light that he misses, but it's obviously something that Obi-wan has. I don't think he killed him when he captured him. Obi-wan is alive."

"And alone," she whispered. "What if he's not strong enough to withstand Anakin's cold presence?"

"He is," Kyle said, confident. "I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about the Imperial authorities, whoever's in charge after Anakin. That guy is the strongest man in the galaxy right now; I'm not denying that. But he's been manipulated, and someone else knows it. Maybe a bunch of people. Obi-wan is safe with Anakin, but not with anyone else."

Asajj nodded and started to rise. "I see what you're saying. They kill Obi-wan and there's no one left for Anakin, except maybe Luke. Obi-wan seemed to think he could make a difference..."

"Luke?" Kyle asked, brow furrowing. "How?"

Oh, right, Kyle didn't know... oops. Asajj waved it off. "Doesn't matter. We need to get to Obi-wan and get him out of there. Anakin too." She heard Kyle following closely as she started back down the hallway.

"Anakin too?" Kyle asked, seemingly shocked that she would want to get him out as well.

She stopped, pivoting on one foot and halting him in his tracks. "Yes. You don't understand who that man is and I don't have the time to go into it at the moment, but I can tell you that the fate of the entire galaxy rests on his shoulders. This could mean the end of all darkness, this war, all of the killing, all of it. Everything. It could all be good again. Just good. You get it? Anakin is not just some evil Sith lord. He's more than that, and Obi-wan is his anchor. You can't keep them separate any longer. We're taking both of them with us."

Kyle didn't argue the point, but he did lift a brow. "You're assuming we get to them first."

"Yes, I'm assuming that. I think we're both agreed on not involving the rebels in this little plan, am I right?" When Kyle nodded, she continued. "So that means it's just the two of us, and I happen to think that we have a much better chance of succeeding than they do. Besides, if we fail then everything's finished anyway."

Kyle smirked at her, apparently finding a bit of humor in what she said. "Didn't realize you were so pessimistic about things."

Asajj ground her teeth and started walking again. "I'm not," she retorted. "Just realistic."

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to leave a review, whatever your thougts may be! :)_

_"Character is like a tree and reputation like a shadow. The shadow is what we think of it; the tree is the real thing." ~ Abraham Lincoln_


	25. The Art of Manipulation

_UPDATE! :D_

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They used to say a Jedi could not be broken. It had been common knowledge a couple decades ago that only a fool would try and break the will of a Jedi.

Few knew the secret.

He was one of them. Having fought alongside them for the better part of the wars, he noticed things that others wouldn't see with a passing glance. It had been hard, at first, to see past the sabaac face that most of them wore, but after a few months they became transparent.

It was true, he discovered, that the majority of them really were similar to a duracrete wall. Nothing fazed them. In Jedi circles they might have called it "inner peace". In civilian circles, it was known as "emotional detachment". They felt nothing. If organic flesh had been fashioned around the body of a droid, he imagined it would look very similar. In a small way, he had grown to envy these men and women.

For the most part, he pitied them.

He never spent much time with the ones that actually seemed like they felt something, but he clearly remembered two of them. They had saved his life, rescued him from a place that, ironically, was meant to contain them and not him. It had been deemed the most fortified prison in the system at the time, possibly in the whole galaxy. Impenetrable. Or so everyone said.

What that prison might have contained in physical strength, it lacked in willpower. What he had seen had not been two Jedi breaking out of a prison. He had seen two men backed into a corner with nothing to lose. Men under their command had been shot, one of their fellow Jedi had been killed, and men that were known around the galaxy by heroic monikers were finally seen as merely human underneath.

Yes, he had seen Jedi break. He had watched their stoic facade crumble, uncovering the desperation hidden beneath. And he had seen what men, powerful men, would do when they were backed into that corner.

Vader was away at the moment, back in some dark, unknown area of the Death Star. Probably brooding over the loss of his daughter. Weak. Vader was still weak.

Sidious had failed. Manipulation was an art, and though the Sith Lord had been one of the greatest wielders of it, he had fallen short of the goal. Vader still cared about people, and that was dangerous, even if he only cared a little. It meant that Anakin was still waiting around somewhere inside of him, ready to break out at any moment.

He supposed he had Kenobi to thank for that. For over an hour he had watched the man pace around in his cell, running a metal hand through dirty, greasy hair that had very little of its youthful color left in it. A far cry from the man that had helped rescue him from that molten prison all those years ago. In an odd sort of sense, he could thank this man for his current position of power as well. Had Kenobi not rescued him, he wouldn't be enjoying his current status. Even though he had been merely a captain in the Clone Wars, he had accelerated to the top of the chain once the Republic had fallen. Switching sides had been all too easy.

He smiled, a genuine smile.

This... _this_ was the epitome of a broken Jedi. This was a Jedi that had been broken many years over and was back in a corner again. It made him nervous. He had seen what this man was capable of. And though Kenobi was getting up there in age, he didn't doubt the man's power if push came to shove.

This time was different, though. _This_ time, there was no Hero With No Fear standing next to him. Anakin Skywalker was all but dead, and this man stood alone now. There would be no dramatic heroics where Kenobi was concerned. The time for those had come and gone ages ago, and all that stood before him now, still pacing across the viewing screen, was a hopelessly lost shadow of a people long forgotten. The man had to be one of only a handful left. Not surprising since Kenobi had a somewhat amusing tendency to survive what most would not, but his time would come eventually. Vader might hold the power, but power in the hands of an instable wielder makes for little success, as he very well knew.

He smiled and turned his attention away from the screen. He supposed that while he waited for an opportunity to strike, he might as well get a feel for the prisoner's current emotional state. The door opened at his command and the short walk down the hall lasted only a few seconds. A second door opened, revealing a dimly-lit corridor with cells on both sides.

Only one was occupied and he stopped in front of it. Waited for Kenobi to see him.

The Jedi stopped pacing and stood still for a few minutes. Then he turned to stare right at him. Surprise flickered briefly in his blue-grey eyes, but then they returned to their neutral state, giving little imagination as to what he was currently thinking about.

He had surprised the man, a feat not easily accomplished. He considered that a small victory, at least, and smiled a little in response. "I see you remember me."

Kenobi just stood there, staring back with the same blank expression. He did cross his arms, though, indicating a small bit of impatience. The sound of the two prosthetics scraping together was enough to make both of them wince a little. Metal on metal had never been a welcome noise, especially in an age where the sound was almost a constant, born from flying debris and crashing ships.

"I've been watching you for a while, now," he continued. "Thought you could use some company considering Lord Vader decided to attend to other business. Tell me, are your accommodations satisfactory, or could they use some improvement?"

He watched the man, studied him like he'd studied every living Jedi's personal file over the years. Sidious had insisted on keeping the detailed records they'd managed to acquire from the Temple, and they had proven useful time and again. Kenobi had always intrigued him, mainly because of his connection with Vader, but for other reasons as well. This was a man not easily figured, and he was bound and determined to break him open.

Kenobi's jaw clenched, a tell-tale sign of restraint, but then he sighed. A frustrated sigh, he decided. "What is it that you came for, captain? I am not inclined to believe that it was for mere conversation."

Captain? Really. Surely the man had not fallen _that_ out of the loop in only a couple decades. He crossed his arms, mirroring his prisoner. "I've climbed a bit in the ranks since we last met. For a man who used to be a war hero and general in the Republic Army, I'm surprised your information isn't up to date."

"I wasn't aware that anyone less than Sidious or Vader required serious attention." The expected retort was sharper than usual, accent more pronounced, but delivered deadpan nevertheless. This man was giving him very little to work with and managing to insult him in the process.

_Marvelous._ Just _wonderful._

But predictable. Kenobi was still Kenobi, sarcastic and shallow to the core. It had been too hopeful for him to believe that he'd breach the inner workings of this man's mind at the start.

He took the insult in stride, turning the immediate rush of anger into a much more restrained smirk. "All the better for me, I suppose. The less you know the better. " He paused, considering the Jedi for a few moments. The way the man held himself: back straight, shoulders square, but obviously wary and tired, and favoring his left leg. An old injury or a new one?

The way his eyes flickered in the dim lighting: blue one second, grey the next, never-ending clouds of haze, flashing with something unrecognizable and deeply troubled by something all too obvious.

Ana... _Vader_. That's the only thing it could be. He wondered for a brief moment if Kenobi was really disappointed to be here, or if he had planned it this way all along. Interesting indeed...

Something to be considered later, anyway.

He supposed it wouldn't hurt to press a few buttons. "Was this a rescue mission of some sort, or a suicide attempt? The latter seems a bit low for someone of your reputation, but one can never tell; time does change a man, especially one of your various escapades... honestly, though, I've been wondering, for some time now, how long it would be before you decided to crash the party. It only seems natural that the man responsible for the collapse of the most powerful Order in history would try and fix things eventually..." He trailed off, suddenly on edge.

He'd miscalculated. Badly. Pressed a button that had, apparently, already been pressed over and over again in a vain effort to destroy it. Kenobi was fuming, seething. _Spitting_ mad. A casual observer wouldn't see it, but everything about the man's demeanor had changed. And he knew he'd unleashed something.

The wariness was gone, the left leg was no longer being favored, the eyes were no longer flashing, but had dropped to ice. He'd also somehow overlooked the fact that Kenobi had not been shot with Force-suppressors. A foolish mistake. One that wouldn't get him killed - he was confident of that- but one that might put him in a bed for the rest of his life.

"_Captain_ Wilhuff Tarkin," Kenobi began, spitting his name out as if it were not worthy of even being spoken. "_That_ is the rank I remember you by and _that _is what I will refer to you as."

So... Kenobi_ did_ remember him. What an _honor_...

The Jedi uncrossed his arms, cold, durasteel fingers hanging loosely. "I'm not sure what you came to me for, but why don't we start with the cold, hard truth. You are a rare breed. One of the few men I never even considered remotely good. A leech. Present, but unnoticed. Sucking the life out of whatever you're attached to at the moment and then moving on to the next victim. Taking survival to a whole new level. You persisted, because that is what leeches are good at, and if no one takes notice of them, they prosper." Kenobi paused, stepping forward until he was just inside the bars of his cell. "I should have left you to rot in that prison. One mistake in a string of many mistakes that I won't make again."

Tarkin nodded, impressed. "Very astute observations. Unfortunately, you are in no position to be making empty threats, Kenobi. Call me what you wish, but the fact remains. I am sitting in a high position in the most powerful government in the universe and you are an afterthought left to waste away in a cell with your not-so-enviable past. I hardly think that what you have to say bears any considerable weight at all."

A hint of a smile, then. A twitch, nothing more. But Tarkin noticed... he always noticed the small things.

"I would advise you not to tread so lightly, captain. Having a false sense of security can have fatal consequences."

_Not_ an empty threat. It sent a shiver up his spine - one Kenobi probably noticed - but he managed to maintained an air of control despite that. Tarkin stared the Jedi down, not caring in the least that the man on the other side of the bars was capable of snapping his neck without moving a finger. He had one advantage that Kenobi would never have.

Tarkin simply didn't care. At all. About anyone except himself. On the flip side, this man cared a great deal, at least about one other man.

He smiled again. "Tell me, _Master_ Kenobi, which hurt more: watching the boy you raised turn your esteemed home into a slaughterhouse, or watching that same boy kill his own daughter with the press of a button?"

Oh, he'd struck a nerve. That much was obvious in the way both durasteel fists clenched tight enough to cause a grating, squeaking sound in protest. If the man wasn't careful, he'd snap his own fingers off.

An amusing image, he had to admit.

Kenobi was silent a moment longer, his eyes staring back with such intensity that Tarkin knew that if looks really could kill, many a man would have been incinerated by this very man ages ago. Or maybe he'd never looked at another man in this way before. The Jedi actually looked as if he'd like to carry out that not-so-empty threat immediately.

Instead, the man curled his hands around the bars, clenched them tightly, and narrowed his eyes. "I would dare to say that even if I told you, you wouldn't even begin to understand. You simply aren't capable of feeling such things, and therefore cannot sympathize with people who are able to." The two fists opened again, releasing the bars. They were barely noticeable, but Tarkin swore he saw the smallest of impressions where the fingers had been.

Kenobi crossed his arms again and took a step back, clearly struggling with some inner conflict. Tarkin waited, sensing that the man wasn't finished speaking yet.

He was right. He generally was most of the time.

"Allow me to let you in on a little secret, or maybe it's not so much of a secret seems how you're obviously knowledgeable when it comes to my past," Kenobi continued. "So here it is: I like words. Not so surprising, really. I often overheard people saying that I'd have made a good senator had I chosen that path, which is a detestable suggestion if you ask me. I suppose it bears a small bit of truth, though. I like words, because you can do a lot with them. I can use the same words to say a dozen different things, depending on how I say them. I can twist them to mean something entirely contrary to what they really should mean. I can use words how they're supposed to be used, bluntly, without a hidden meaning."

He started to pace again, and Tarkin got the impression that this meant the man was relaxed, no longer tense. While he breathed a little easier at the prolonging of physical harm, he frowned inwardly, disappointed that somehow Kenobi had brought this conversation around to a more comfortable topic. It was proving to be an interesting turn, though. He was drawn into the expressions that flashed across the man's face as he spoke, obviously deep in thought. In these expressions, he was introduced to yet another layer of the man. Hardly a brush of the surface, but still making headway.

Kenobi went on... "The same word can have a thousand different meanings. Tense, context, dialect, language - there are dozens of variables, all useful if I know how to use them. I can tell the truth, I can lie, I can tell the truth even though it will be taken as a lie. Or perhaps a half-truth might be better. I've always been good at those... too good, some might say..." He stopped and glanced over. "You following me, captain?"

Tarkin narrowed his eyes and nodded, but he didn't provide any comment. This was starting to make him wary. The man speaking now was not the same man that had been fuming only moments before. The abrupt switch of mood was puzzling.

"The point is," he finally stated. "Words can become a powerful ally if a man knows how to use them correctly, but there's another part of this as well." He continued to pace, but he turned his head to look at Tarkin again. "If a man is going to use words to accomplish his goals, he must also understand that these words will be used in a social environment. He will be interacting with people. Forgive me for being so technical in my explanations, here, but a being of your limited emotional capabilities would hardly be able to follow anything more than that."

He looked away again, and Tarkin bristled when he did. He might not care about others too terribly much, but he certainly was no machine, and it would do Kenobi some good to recognize that fact. Or maybe not. Misconceptions could also be used to manipulate...

"While you may not be able to feel these emotions, I get the impression that you have become quite adept at interpreting them, hence your current position in the Empire. With only a few minutes of interaction, I would wager you could give an entire psychological profile of an individual, how they would react to certain situations or allegations, who they might respond well to, how quick their temper might fire up, what sort of job they would be good at, whether they might be a good leader or not, that sort of thing... yes, captain, you can read people and read them well. Would you agree?"

Tarkin decided to just run with it. He obviously was not going to turn this conversation anywhere else at the moment, so he might as well just join in. Besides, it _was_ a rather intriguing topic. He smiled, proud at the subtle compliment. Actually, it probably wasn't intended as a compliment, but he decided to take it as such. "I would," he answered.

Kenobi stopped pacing. "Good. Then as a man who excels in these skills, you must also agree that they can be used to meet two ends. You might phrase them differently than I do, but they are generally the same. Manipulation is one. This one is easy enough and can be used to accomplish a variety of different goals. In fact, many use manipulation without even being aware they are using it. It comes naturally. One might also call it persuasion. A means to a rather self-centered end, but those ends are often for a good enough cause. While manipulation is used by everyone, it is used at varying levels. A true master of it will turn it into an art form and can virtually bend anyone to his will in the process of using it." The Jedi tipped his head to the side, studying him. Tarkin smiled. Kenobi smiled. "You are a true master at it, aren't you. Not surprising. I noticed it the first time I met you. You had that distinct aura about you. One of subtle authority and confidence."

Very perceptive, this man. Tarkin already knew that, though, because he'd noticed the exact same thing when they'd met. He and Kenobi were of the same mold, it seemed. Their goals were just on opposite ends of the spectrum. "I would say you're no different," he said, cocking a brow.

Kenobi actually chuckled... not a normal chuckle, though. It had a shadowy undercurrent to it. "If by that you mean that I know how to manipulate someone and I know how to do it well, then you are correct, but that is where the comparison between you and I ends, captain. The second end is this: a man can use his gift of words for the good of others. This is done by appealing to logic, conscience, relationship, and emotion." Kenobi's smile disappeared and his demeanor changed again. A man not easily figured. The file, along with his previous observations, certainly wasn't wrong there. Tarkin was having a hard time following him.

"Through this end, a man can accomplish greater things. This is where you will fail and fail miserably, because judging from what little I've seen of you - oh yes, I read people well too - you don't know _how_ to do this. To connect on the emotional level is a foreign concept for you. You don't want relationships, because you're a leech. Your self-centeredness has so thoroughly infected you that you can't possibly think of anyone else but yourself. You take and take and take some more without ever giving anything back."

Tarkin calmly crossed his arms, considering the man in front of him. These were all such _wonderful_ observations and such, but he honestly didn't see the point in all of this. "Isn't that the point? If a man doesn't look out for himself, he will never accomplish anything or get anywhere in this universe. This is a cruel reality, and a man cannot spend his life worrying about the sake of others if he loses his own identity in the process."

"A valid point," the man conceded. "But let me ask you something... why are you afraid of me?"

The question caught him off guard. He was quick to answer. "You don't frighten me," he bit out. Not yet, anyway. The man wouldn't kill him yet.

"I'll rephrase the question, then," Kenobi offered. "Why is Anakin's presence keeping you from having me executed?"

Okay, so the man was _very_ perceptive. He had a feeling that Kenobi was indicating more than just a matter of rank. Tarkin glared back. "_Vader_ seems to want you alive, though I haven't the slightest clue why, and if I were to kill you, then that wouldn't be looking out for myself would it?"

Kenobi gave him a curt nod. "Correct. It wouldn't, and yet it pains you that I'm still alive. I gather that you're rather frustrated at that little fact, that I'm standing here in front of you at point blank range and you can't so much as lay a finger on me without being reprimanded."

Tarkin snorted. "Perhaps, and yet I'm the one with unlimited reach as far as Vader is concerned."

It was a wild guess, a small jab into places unknown, but his intuition had never been wrong before. He smirked at the hesitation, the slight tightening of Kenobi's jaw, the way his arms shifted a little. He'd guessed correctly, then. That changed things. He dared to take a step closer and glanced at the durasteel bars standing between them, fingering one as he spoke once more. "You think you have such a large advantage over me, don't you?" he asked, not really needing an answer. "That's interesting, because the way I see it, you're the one currently in a desperate situation. I would venture to say that you're rather comfortable behind bars, safely out of harm's way, at least in the sense of being killed." He paused, glancing back up into the man's eyes. A wary gaze met him there, burrowing deep, but hardly making a dent. Tarkin merely smirked. "I wouldn't get _too_ comfortable... a false sense of security can prove fatal if you're not careful."

Kenobi's jaw was getting what looked to be a brutal workout. A good sign, he decided. Not many men enjoyed getting their words thrown back at them.

He stepped back again and began to pace in a slow and measured gate. "I enjoyed the lecture, I really did. It was refreshing to hear such a philosophical approach to a subject that I'm passionate about. Word play and manipulation are two old hobbies of mine, ones that don't get a lot of credit these days since most positions of power are held through brute force rather than clever minds. You're a relic of good times lost, my friend. I'd advise you to hear me out, though. While I may not be as _emotionally_ connected as most people these days, that does not mean that I don't understand emotions. In fact, they make for an interesting study, especially when you've had so many years to observe them." He paused and winked. "And I've had a lot of years to sit back and watch. You Jedi were particularly intriguing. Most saw you as droids with organic costumes, incapable of feeling anything, similar to the way you described me a few minutes ago. I saw past that facade right away, especially where you and Anakin were concerned."

"And what did you see?" Kenobi inquired, offering the question simply as a means of contributing to a one-sided conversation. The question really wasn't necessary, Tarkin thought, since he was going to answer it anyway.

"I saw two men so tightly bound that anything would be hard-pressed to get between them. I imagine it was hard being a Jedi, encouraged to 'release everything into the Force' and such. You two seemed closer than most, and I figured it was your way of coping with it all." He brushed an invisible speck of lint off his sleeve. "That method failed, however. Anakin is dead now, vanished. Destroyed. _Done_. You will not find him here. I don't particularly care what came between you two or what _was_ between you two. What you need to know is that you haven't fooled me and you won't. If I don't want him to see you or talk to you, I can come up with plenty of distractions to occupy his time."

"And why would you wish to do that?"

Tarkin blinked, inwardly groaning. _That_ question wasn't really necessary either, because they both knew the answer. "I know as well as you do why Vader is keeping you alive," he answered. "That 'connection' still exists somewhere and he feels it. You intend to use that in the hopes of maybe seeing your precious boy emerge at some point. It won't happen."

Kenobi cocked a brow, not quite as confident as before, but still hopeful. "You're so sure?"

Tarkin nodded. "Yes. A question to prove my point: why are _you_ afraid of _me_?" Ah, yes... not much, but the man _had _narrowed his eyes just a tad. He'd scored yet another hit. "You are keeping me alive for the same reason I am keeping you alive. We both don't have quite the hold on him that we want yet, and so we can't stir up the pot too much for fear of it boiling over. Am I right?"

Those eyes were ice again, colder than before if possible. Tarkin still didn't budge. He knew the cell would hold anything short of Vader himself. Kenobi was strong, but not _that_ strong. Specially-crafted durasteel would withstand a Force-attack... in theory, at least. Tarkin was banking on that theory being fact.

A second later, that no longer mattered. The blaster that had previously been resting securely at his hip went flying through the air, spun cleanly through the tight space between the bars, and landed perfectly in Kenobi's outstretched hand. Before the clang of the impact of the two metal objects finished echoing, the barrel was an inch away from his left eye, as still as the walls around them.

Tarkin froze, and for a few long moments the only sound to be heard was the desperate vibrations of the door down the hall as some of his men attempted to open it. Tarkin knew they wouldn't succeed, though. Kenobi seemed to have a hold on the door as well. He'd been a fool to come in here alone.

_He can't kill me yet. He won't, not yet, not now. The timing isn't right..._ Or so he hoped. Maybe he'd miscalculated somewhere and the man really _was_ going to kill him. All he could do was stare down the blaster with his left eye and glare at Kenobi with the other. A million thoughts began to run through his head, a million different things he could say, and yet he couldn't seem to form a word.

Kenobi, it seemed, didn't have the same problem. It made sense, since he was the one holding the gun...

The Jedi's eyes glinted dangerously as he fingered the trigger. "Right on one account, Tarkin," he stated, bitterly admitting the fact. "I _can't_ kill you yet." The blaster shifted ever-so-slightly and Kenobi fired a single shot past Tarkin's head and into the wall.

Tarkin tried his best not to flinch, and yet he still did. The fact that he'd come _that_ close to setting this man off was reason enough to flinch.

He smiled nonetheless. Today's victory belonged to him, and him alone. He'd made sure Kenobi knew who really held the power around here. "Which is why I suggest you stop threatening me," he smoothly replied. "I may not be able to kill you either, but torture is not entirely out of the question. Don't push me."

The blaster dropped from the Jedi's hand and almost made it to the floor before it jerked to the left, flew straight across the cell and smashed into pieces against the wall. Tarkin didn't flinch this time. He glanced once at the remains of his weapon and then sighed. "Frivolous displays of your mysterious Jedi powers will get you nowhere, I assure you."

Kenobi continued to stare right at him. "There's nothing mysterious about them. If you tear him away from me again, I will kill you. It's that simple."

Tarkin's heart skipped a beat, but he maintained his stoic expression. "Jedi don't kill in cold blood."

"Time tends to change a man, especially one of my various... _escapades_," Kenobi replied in a low voice. Then he slowly turned around and casually strolled to the back of his cell, lowering himself down against the wall. The door down the hall burst open and men flooded through, but Kenobi simply shut his eyes and leaned back. "You are free to leave now."

Tarkin dismissed the arrogant statement and display of the Force as afterthoughts. He'd seen plenty of such displays in his life. It only served to remind him of how careful he needed to be and nothing else. This man was not a serious threat so long as Tarkin maintained a firm grasp on Vader's state of mind.

"Are you alright, sir?" one of his men asked. The others had their blasters pointed at Kenobi. A wasted effort, but a valiant one nonetheless.

Tarkin nodded. "None the worse for wear, gentleman. This man merely needed a reminder of who's in control around here..." he trailed off at a surprising chuckle from the Jedi.

One eye peeked open. "If by 'control' you mean 'power', then I'm afraid you are terribly confused. Neither you nor I have any control over anything. We would be fools to think otherwise."

Tarkin cocked a brow at him and crossed his arms, impatient. This exhausting muse had gone on long enough, and he was growing frustrated at this man's drastic change in emotions. One minute Kenobi was a flick of the finger away from killing him and the next he was laughing at him. Tarkin was simply _over it_. "I would like to believe that I have at least _some_ say around here, and certainly when it comes to important decisions."

The other eye opened and he was once again met with a piercing gaze. "Perhaps you do, but Anakin is far more important than you lead yourself to believe. I would also advise you to pay a little more attention to your own precarious position." He paused to lean back once more, eyelids dropping down again. "Anakin didn't take kindly to the last man who tried to get inside his head."

Tarkin frowned, hating that Kenobi had brought that up. He'd desperately been ignoring that little tidbit ever since it happened. Yes, he was in a dangerous situation, but he knew he was better equipped than Sidious had been, and in a far more discreet position in relation to Ana - _Vader_. _Lord Vader_. Anakin was _dead_ and would stay that way for many years to come. He would make sure of it.

He offered Kenobi a final smirk, even though the man was no longer paying attention. "We may have different goals, Jedi, but you are walking the same line as I am. If Vader has any sense at all, you'll be dead by the end of the week." He left it at that and turned to go, leading the way down the hall at a measured pace.

The casual steps were intended. Tarkin didn't see any need for Kenobi to think that he was running away, though victory certainly hadn't been achieved.

He was a fair man, in any case. He gave credit where credit was due, and that man was a worthy opponent. Besides, he'd rather enjoyed the conversation in spite of almost getting his head blown off.

Tarkin would concede to a draw.

* * *

_Sorry for all the long dialogue, but Obi-wan has always struck me as the talkative type when backed into a corner. I imagine he'd make a rotten and annoying prisoner, at least with anyone other than Anakin. As for Tarkin, well, he's new to me and may not seem quite the same as his canon character, but judging from what I've read about him and seen, he seems like the slippery, back-stabbing kind of guy, and he actually struck me as similar to Obi-wan, at least in the way he talks. Maybe what Obi-wan might have been like if he'd ever turned dark..._

_Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review if you can spare a few seconds... ;) Back to Anakin in the next chapter!_

_"Love comes when manipulation stops; when you think more about the other person than his or her reactions to you. When you dare to reveal yourself fully. When you dare to become vulnerable." ~ Joyce Brothers_


	26. There Are Two

So... it's been a while. You may want to at least read the last chapter as a refresher. Thanks for your patience everybody! Enjoy! :)

* * *

_He'd said 'daughter'. But I'd never had a daughter. Padme had died; the funeral had been public. My baby had died with her._

_I never had a daughter._

_But the desperation in his eyes had not been fake; that I knew. He had cried out at me, sounding almost close to terrified, the closest I'd ever heard him. And the look in his eyes when Alderaan had ceased to exist..._

_Haunting._

_It had even given _me_ chills. He had been an open book in that moment, so transparent that I hadn't had to even think about what I was seeing on him. And then he'd closed himself off again. Sabaac face, unreadable._

_But he clearly believed that I had just murdered my own daughter, which was impossible since I didn't have a daughter..._

_Obi-wan was not one to run after rumors. He had never been easily fooled or taken advantage of. Had he gone delirious in his old age? Maybe his injuries had taken their toll on his mind; it had been known to happen to other men. I would have to speak to him soon, set him straight._

_I never had a daughter. It wasn't possible, shouldn't even have come out of his mouth, and yet I had felt something snap, a connection that might have been..._

_"Lord Vader?"_

_I turned, barely holding back the growl that had risen in my throat. I was so confused right now... "What is it, Tarkin?"_

_"I had a brief chat with the prisoner. I strongly suggest that he be kept on Force-inhibitors for the duration of his stay."_

_This man was a kriffing idiot. Granted, he was the most intelligent idiot to ever be promoted to such a position of authority, but an idiot nonetheless. The man had absolutely no common sense. "I thought I made it clear that I would not have my most trusted men disobeying direct orders. You are to be an example to the others, Tarkin, not the one going behind my back." I took a small bit of pleasure in the slight twitching of his jaw, but that was all he allowed. He could be an impressive idiot when he wanted to be._

_"My apologies, sir. I was under the impression that you wanted me to continue my evaluation process of any prisoners that come in."_

_Intelligent as well as clever. I cursed myself for not blatantly telling him to leave Kenobi alone. He was a sneaky gundark, this one. "I suppose my announcement at his arrival did not suffice? I seem to remember ordering everyone on base to leave the man to me and me alone. He is not to be trifled with."_

_The fool had the audacity to cock a brow at this. "Is he dangerous, my lord?"_

_I took a few casual steps towards him, somewhat pleased at the fact that he didn't retreat. An idiot he may be, but he was well-suited for his position. "You are not to speak with him or enter the cell block again as long as he is here; do I make myself clear?"_

_The slight narrowing of the man's eyes was all that indicated his irritation. "Yes, Lord Vader."_

_I nodded. "Good." There was no need to expound on what would happen should he repeat his mistake. I had a reputation, after all. I turned and stared out the viewport, stunned for a brief moment by the enormity of space. It never ceased to amaze me._

_And Force, the stars were beautiful..._

_"As to your last question," I continued, "yes, Kenobi is dangerous. You were acquainted with him before, though, so I'm surprised you asked. Tell me... what is it that you talked about?"_

_He hesitated. Not long, but enough for me to realize that I would need to start watching him more closely from now on. "Words, sir. We talked about the power of words."_

_I sensed no deception, fortunately for him. His answer actually made me smile slightly. My old master probably thoroughly enjoyed that conversation. "Interesting topic, though not surprising considering who you were speaking with. Did you learn anything?"_

_I felt him smirk. "Nothing I didn't already know, sir."_

_I sighed, growing impatient. I needed to speak with the Jedi as soon as possible, though I really didn't know why. I just felt like I needed to, if only to let him know that anything short of his cooperation would end in another planet's disappearance. Tarkin was wasting my time. "Not about the Jedi. About the rebels. Did you learn anything of our enemy's tactics?"_

_"Nothing, sir," he stated. He was radiating disappointment. _

_I turned to face him once more and raised a brow at him. "About this suggestion of yours... what makes you think he needs inhibitors? Those cells are specially built to hold Force-sensitive individuals. He will not be escaping, and if he did, well... I assure you he would not get far."_

_He looked away for the first time and actually seemed a little embarrassed. "He assaulted me, sir," he fairly mumbled._

_"Assaulted you?" Now it was getting interesting. What did my former master do now? He never had been the most cooperative of prisoners... "How?"_

_"With my gun, sir."_

_Not the man's finest moment. "He assaulted you with your own gun while behind bars? Forgive me for having to ask, but what makes you think that it was a smart idea to bring a gun to an interrogation with a powerful Jedi master who was not shot with inhibitors?" _

_This left the poor idiot stuttering about self-defense and not thinking that Kenobi could be provoked so easily - clearly he didn't know the man as well as he thought he did (or maybe he knew him too well...)- and I gave him a dismissive wave. "Go check on the construction going on over in sector five. Being far away from the detention center might help with your itch to provoke unprovokable prisoners."_

_He muttered an affirmative and turned to go._

_"And Tarkin?"_

_He stopped._

_"Don't undermine me again. I'm beginning to think you're holding to some false illusion of control. It would be best if you stop."_

_"I hold no illusions, sir. I exist only to serve you."_

_"Pretty words from a clever man," I retorted. I've had too much practice with wordplay to fall for such drivel. "The last man who tried to control me ended up as a puddle at my feet. Don't look to Sidious as an example."_

_He began to turn around. "Sir, I -"_

_"You are dismissed."_

_He left._

_And once again, I was left alone with only the stars to comfort me. Unfortunately, they only served to remind me of the planet I had just blown into billions of smithereens... and of a daughter that might have been killed in the process._

_But that was impossible._

_The Force was silent as I pondered what had happened only hours earlier. Not for the first time, I cursed the darkness I was steeped in and left the room in Tarkin's wake. The dark side was useful for a good many things, but sometimes I felt as though I was floundering around blind. I headed in the opposite direction, towards the detention center._

_Towards the only man who held any answers I cared about. Towards the light that continued to burn despite my every effort to snuff it out._

_At the end of the day, or week, or month, or however long it took to get every possible use out of him, he would die. I didn't care if the light died with him or not._

_Tarkin was holding on to his pathetic illusions, but this other man, this shadow from my haunted past... he harbored no illusions. He knew exactly what he was doing to me and I was letting him do it._

_No more. It was time to get answers and kill him._

_I reached the cell block and didn't hesitate to enter. I stopped at his cell, the sound of my boots continuing to echo down the long corridor, and waited for him to look up._

_It didn't take him long._

_Only then did I realize that I harbored some illusions of my own. I couldn't kill him. Something was still holding me back_

~~OOO~~

Obi-wan just stared at Anakin, wondering why he was here. He figured that it wouldn't have been too long after he'd threatened to kill Tarkin that Anakin would show up, but staring into his old friend's eyes made him reconsider the reasoning behind his appearance. This visit had very little to do with Tarkin.

The pain from watching and feeling Alderaan die was still fresh and all he could do was continue to look at Anakin. He felt his own anger boiling beneath the surface, but he held it in check. The Dark would not win, not when he had clearly felt the Light rush to his aid right before Anakin had decimated a planet. No. He _would_ be angry; he could no longer deny what he was feeling, but he would not let it control him.

Obi-wan still didn't trust himself to speak, though. The only words that would come out of his mouth would be biting and sarcastic and full of too much venom to cause anything but an argument to spring up.

So he sat still. And he stared. And he waited.

And he wondered.

He couldn't help but sit up a little straighter, look a little closer. Something had just shattered in the Sith; he had known this man for far too long to miss it.

So he took a deep breath and chose to trust himself to not say anything rash.

"Her name was Leia." He bit the words out, unable to prevent the slight edge to his voice.

A few hours ago, that would have been a very rash thing to say... but Anakin's daughter was dead, so it didn't matter anymore.

~~OOO~~

_Leia._

_I didn't have a daughter, but he gave me a name. Where did he pull this name out of? I'll have to look into the name later, maybe check Alderaan's last census. She would have been close to twenty years old..._

_No. I didn't have a daughter._

_But... Leia. The name fit. It was a name my beautiful angel would have chosen for our daughter. One she had even mentioned early on in her pregnancy, spoken with a soft smile, gentle eyes silently asking me if I had agreed... Force, I missed her..._

_Leia...peace. It had meant peace in a language she had briefly mentioned to me when she brought the name up. It brought a small measure of peace just to hear the name now, even if it was spoken in a slightly angry tone by a man I desperately wanted to be rid of._

_"Leia." I couldn't help but whisper it, and it made me smile a little. But then I remembered where I was and who I was talking to._

_He looked a little shocked, but I didn't care. This had to be a trick, or coincidence, or _something_! Had I known... I would _never_ have killed my own daughter. Padme's daughter. Our daughter. "How did you get that name?" I growled._

_I was surprised to discover slight waves of anger in the Force that were not my own, but _his_. Most people had learned to cower when I got angry, but I had learned long ago to cower when _he_ got angry, and I almost started to. Those days were behind me, though._

_No more. He was a prisoner, and I was the most powerful being in the galaxy. He would answer me and he would answer me respectfully. _

_"How do you think, Anakin?" _

_The venomous bite in the words stung in more ways than one. I didn't like what he was implying one bit, that he had been there for my angel when she had died. That he had been there at the birth of my daughter. That I hadn't._

_I reached forward and grabbed the bars, squeezing until they started to dent. It took a couple seconds for me to see two similar dents right above my own. I caught his eye again and found that he had been staring at the dents as well. "You had no right to be there..."_

_He finally stood up and leaned back against the wall. The crossing of his arms let loose a screeching whine that made both of us flinch, though him not so much. He must have gotten somewhat used to it._

_"Who else was there to try and help her? You? Tell me, Anakin... where were you when the one person you loved most lay dying and in pain, not caring in the least that she herself might die, but that the two infants inside of her were struggling just to breathe. You were gone, Anakin! She was alone; someone had to be there for her!"_

_"I searched for her!" I snarled. And I had. After I had left him groaning in the ash, one arm permanently separated from his body, I had returned to where his ship had landed. But it hadn't been there. "You took her from me..." _

_"I protected her..."_

_"I would never, _NEVER_, have killed her! You know that! If I had been there, she would still be alive right now, I would still have my daughter, and everything would be different!" I clenched the bars again, intending to bend them myself and strangle the man with my own two hands. "Her death was your fault!"_

_Apparently he decided to make it easy for me, though. The fool pushed himself off the wall and came at me in two quick strides, getting right in my face. His eyes bore into my own. For the first time in a long, long time, I was facing a man who wasn't afraid of me._

_I smiled, eagerly accepting the challenge and gladly accepting an opportunity that had escaped my reach for far too long. He wanted a fight, and I was more than willing._

_But it would have to wait, because instead of trying to get at me like I predicted, he simply stood there. He was clearly still angry; there was no doubting that, but there was pain now, too. "She died believing there was still good in you," he said quietly. "She told me herself, right before she passed. I believed her."_

_I froze for a moment, struck speechless by what I was hearing. Hope was something I had long since let go of, but it seemed to be coming back into reach._

_No. It had to be a trick. Obi-wan had always been a smooth talker, just like Tarkin. The two were two snow peas in a pod. One was just a little more rotten at the core than the other. "You're lying," I sneered. "She brought you with her to kill me."_

_The second the words left my mouth, I knew that of the two of us, he wasn't the one lying. Padme never would have done such a thing._

_When his hand latched on to my wrist, I felt ice crawl up my arm. The metal was cold and unforgivingly firm. I found myself unable to pull away. "She loved you up until her dying breath, Anakin. You may doubt my love for you, but don't you dare doubt hers." He let me go and stepped back. "There was nothing but compassion in her from the start. And in the end you strangled her and left her to die."_

_I reached through the bars attempting to grab him, but he was just out of my reach. "Her death was _not_ my fault, you kriffin' sleemo!"_

_He only stared back, silently assessing. After I ceased trying to get to him, he finally spoke again. "I failed you, my friend. There is no denying that. You've made it abundantly clear, but you will get no pity from me. You judged me by my actions, as you should. I never was very good at showing what I felt... you, however, never made an attempt at holding anything back." He paused, and his eyes took on that haunted look again. "You killed her, Anakin. You slaughtered younglings, you've hunted down the few Jedi that survived, you just murdered your own daughter along with millions of others, and you stand here now trying to accuse me of your own terrible mistakes."_

_No. He had it all wrong. He always had it wrong..._

_"You've made yourself what you are today, Anakin," he muttered, no longer looking so angry. Instead, he looked lost and bone-weary. Exhausted. "You needed to hear it, even if I never wanted to be the one to tell you."_

_I absorbed his words involuntarily, hating the way they ate at my insides. My gut churned uncomfortably. _

_The Jedi had all been liars. They had all deserved to die. The galaxy had been an unparalleled disaster before the Dark had come to power. Now there was order, there was peace (mostly), and there was control. There was no one telling me how I should or shouldn't feel, no one to ridicule me or tell me in a condescending manner how I needed to change._

_Life was so much simpler._

It's all a lie, brother.

_There was that bond again. Still shriveled, still shredded, and still barely a thread in my mind where there had once been an immovable cord. Yet he was still able to use it somehow, and his soft words echoed through my head._

_I glared at him through the bars. All it would take was one solid yank. I built them to hold Force-users up to a point. No one could channel the Force like I could, and he knew that. I could tell by the suddenly wary stance he'd taken up._

_"We were never brothers," I snapped. I pushed my hand forward, not even bothering with the bars. I never needed them out of my way, even though physically beating him to a pulp would have been so much more satisfying. But this would do._

_He grunted when the invisible energy slammed into him, shoving him straight back into the hard wall behind him. Cracks snaked out from behind him at the impact. His breath came out in wheezes as he fell to his knees._

_Surprisingly, he made no move to get up or to even raise a hand in retaliation. He just took it without comment._

_But his kriffin' eyes said enough. They always spoke the words he was never strong enough to say, and I hated the way he was looking at me now. I flicked my wrist one last time, snapping his head back just hard enough to knock him out. I watched his eyes roll back and his head flop forward before pivoting on my feet and slamming my prosthetic fist into the wall behind me. A chunk of duracrete sailed off down the hall._

_I glanced back at him one last time before leaving. I was more comfortable in the shadows and out of the revealing light. The truth in his words bothered me, yet I couldn't justify blaming him anymore._

_I left blaming only myself and facing the hard reality that I couldn't go back and just change it all._

_I couldn't bring my angel back._

_I couldn't bring my daughter back... this hurt even more, though I didn't know why. I hadn't even known her..._

_I stopped, focusing on the weak bond that he had somehow accessed. It shouldn't even be there; had it not been so strong back in the day it would have long disappeared by now._

_He came after me. Over the years he had proven that he was more than capable of eluding me for as long as he so desired, but a couple weeks back told me a different story. His engaging me in a space battle was no act of sacrifice. The kid I had been toying with had been a rebel, had been one of his allies, and he'd shot him at point blank range, effectively crippling him and drawing me away in the process._

_He'd come after me. He'd never had a desire to elude me forever._

_There had only ever been three people I had considered family. My mom was gone, Padme was gone... he was not._

_Having him close could be the only cause of the turmoil in the Force. He had to be. I had never felt so confused, so conflicted before. I had captured him hoping to gain valuable intel on the rebels, but what he was giving me instead was a trip back to the past I had tried so hard to forget._

_I started walking again, cursing the man over and over again with the most vile Huttese curses I could think of._

_And then I stopped again, recalling something he'd said. He had mentioned two infants... two..._

_Leia... and another?_

_I had _two_ children? Was the other one still alive?_

_A face flashed through my head and stuck there. Blue eyes, blond hair sticking out from beneath the orange helmet, a presence that had felt far too familiar at the time... the one he had crippled._

_The fool had never wanted that boy to follow us._

_I had a son._

* * *

"The most common lie is that which one lies to himself; lying to others is relatively an exception." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Please review if you've got a few seconds! :)


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